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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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916
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1/1
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6
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735

Oh Chief 3: The Truth

Summary:

Summary: Remember when Blair threatened Jim with pictures of Candy? Wondering who Candy is? Read on, Macduff!
Rating: PG-for some cussin'
Status: New/Complete
Archive: You have to ask? Oh, you do? Well then, please do archive!
Series/Sequel: Sequel to 'Oh Chief!' and 'Sorry Chief'
Disclaimers: The usual, not mine, and all that B.S.
Notes: It'll help to read the fics before. A big THANKS to Kim Workman for beta'ing this so fast and so well!
Submitted through the BlairOooowiesFic mailing list.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The Truth
By Lori J

 

"Blair, please, I didn't mean it. Please don't do this." I was begging for my life, my reputation. If this got out, I would never hear the end of it. My tormentor stood in front of me with a smile on his face. Some might call it angelic. I call it downright evil.

"Jim, please don't beg. It's unmanly. I told you what would happen didn't I? Didn't I?" I nodded dumbly as I mentally watched my life go up in flames. "You promised me, Jim. I believed in you and you let me down."

"But..."

Blair held his hand up to stop me from finishing. "I'm sorry Jim, I really am, but it's got to be done. Now if you'll excuse me?" He motioned me out of his way with a large envelope. An envelope that I knew would seal my fate. Dammit! I had to find a way to get it from him.

"Jim? Snap out of it, man! We've got to get down to the Station."

There was a hint of smugness in his tone. In that moment, I hated him. Hated him more than I have ever hated anyone. How could he stand there so calmly when he held my *life* in his hands? Bastard.

I made as though I was coming out of a zone. In reality, my mind was working frantically on a solution. I came up with ideas only to discard them seconds later. As I followed Blair out the door, the perfect plan came to mind. I would simply steal the photos. Not the greatest plan, mind you, but it'll have to do for now. Blair says he has the negatives, but I'm not so sure. These may be his only copies.

For a moment, I'm completely disgusted with myself. Why can't I just let everyone see that side of me? What can it hurt?

What can it hurt? It can hurt everything. I'll have no credibility left. No, this is something that must be kept secret.

More determined then ever, I lock the door as I work out the specifics of my plan. Right now Blair is standing by the stairs, patiently waiting. My plan is to grab the envelope as I pass by and run like hell. I only hope he won't catch me. Blair Sandburg is *fast*, don't let anyone tell you different.

OK Ellison, you can do this. Like taking candy from a baby. You've been in worse situations. Remember Tanzania? No one thought you'd come back alive, but you did. You showed them, now show him. Show Blair that you're not a man to be messed with.

I stalked determinedly over to Blair. He was still smiling as I approached, though it started to fade as I got closer. "Jim? C'mon man, we'll be late."

"No, we won't." I said. The enemy eyed me suspiciously. I smiled using my patented 'I'm a lover not a fighter' smile and he relaxed. That's when I made my move. Snatching the envelope from the hand dangling at his side, I took off down the stairs.

YES! I got them! I won! Never would Sandburg hold these pictures over me again.

Wait a minute. Did I just...yes, I did. I just missed a step. And we all know what that means, don't we? Jim Ellison, Sentinel of the Great City, is now bouncing down the steps like a slinky. Head on one step (Ouch! My nose!), feet on the next (Ow! My ankle!)

I come to rest at the bottom of the third floor landing. I landed face up so that's sort of a good thing, I guess. Sandburg comes thundering down after me, yelling my name. Funny, it doesn't sound so loud anymore. Almost like he's in a tunnel.

I'm staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks when his face fills my vision. Blair looks worried, saying something about idiot Sentinels who can't handle the fact that they once played a candy cane in a Christmas play.

He just doesn't understand. I take my reputation very seriously and this would taint my tough guy image.

Blair's on his cellphone now, calling 911. I try to tell him that's not necessary, but can't make the words come out. The last thing I see is Blair picking up the envelope and stuffing it into his backpack. The last thought or perhaps regret I have is that I ever put on red and white tights.

**************

Epilogue

Seeing him limp around the loft and moaning is really getting on my nerves. Sure, I feel bad he biffed going down the stairs, but no one told him to break one of the commandments! On the plus side, I got the pictures back.

Little Jimmy Ellison, wearing a candy-cane shaped costume and red and white striped tights! Priceless! You just don't pass up blackmail material like this. I'll hold off on exposing him to Major Crimes though, he needs his rest.

Imagine, a concussion, broken nose, sprained ankle, and bruised butt. Yes, a bruised butt. There is a technical term for it, but it escapes me at the moment. Suffice to say, Jim's ass is one giant bruise.

I promised myself I wouldn't laugh about this again...but I can't help it. On the negative side, he's been, you know, whining. 'Blair, I need some aspirin.' 'Blair, can you make me some chicken soup?'

Just wait until he gets better. Then I go public!

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Lori J.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.