SquidgeWorld Archive

Make It Go Away II: Angel on My Shoulder
by Natalie L
June, 2000

Make it go away, or make it better.
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Make it go away, or make it better,
'Cause I would do either one for you.

"You look good, man. Gotta date?" Blair sized up his friend, who had put on a suit and tie for the evening.

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"No. No. Not at all. Anybody I know?"

"I doubt it. She's an old friend of Carolyn's, from college.

She's just in town for a couple days, and I promised I'd meet with her for old-time's sake." Jim studied his friend and roommate closely.

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"I told you ... no commitments. Go on. Have a good time."

Jim turned to leave, but the feeling of foreboding that had crept into his mind wouldn't let go. "You sure?"

"Good God, Jim. You'd think we were married! Go!" Blair made a shooing motion with his hands. "Get out of here. I've got papers to grade and a lesson plan to work up."

"Okay. All right, Chief, I'm going." He closed the door gently behind him as he exited.

Blair sat heavily on the couch, dropping his head into his hands.

Ever since he had confessed his love for Jim, they had been dancing around each other as though performing some obscure mating ritual. Why hadn't he just kept his damn mouth shut? He could have used his considerable talent for obfuscation to come up with another excuse for
his seizure. Guess you weren't thinking straight, Sandburg, he berated himself.

Settling on the couch in front of his laptop computer, he pulled up the file for the next day's lesson plan. Might as well get busy....

*
As Jim threaded his way through the evening traffic, he tried to sort out his thoughts. It had only been, what, five days, since Blair had turned his whole world upside down with a confession of love, and a kiss that had darn near knocked his socks off. He hadn't been prepared for that confidence, nor for the seizure that had preceded it. He couldn't remember being more terrified. The problem being, he wasn't sure if it was the confession or the seizure that scared him more.

Blair was an important part of his life. Ever since he had waltzed into Jim's world, nothing had remained the same. The loner cop suddenly had an indispensable partner. One who could control his rampant senses when he, himself, could not. One that had pulled his butt out of the fire more times than he could count. One that got *himself* into more trouble than Jim had ever thought possible. One that had made the world a little warmer and fuzzier by his presence.

Remembering the times he'd almost lost Blair, he relived the terror.

But was that love? Was he so desensitized that he couldn't recognize what was right in front of his face?

Pulling into a parking place in front of the hotel, he was met by a beautiful, olive-skinned brunette. "Sandra?"

"Jim! It's so good to see you again!" The woman slipped into the passenger seat of the truck, and Jim pulled out into the traffic once more. "How long has it been? Six years...? My goodness!"

"How's Paul?" Jim inquired. "Is he still in the contracting business?"

"Oh. Well, Paul and I divorced three years ago. No kids. No strings. I heard about you and Carolyn. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. We're still friends. My work just got in the way, I guess." He turned to flash her a smile.

"So. How are things with you? Still with the Cascade PD?"

"Yup, going on seven years now. I'm currently working in Major Crimes."

"How exciting! Still the loner, I suppose. 'Doesn't play well with others. Runs with scissors.'" She chuckled at her own joke.

"No, actually. I've got myself a partner. Well, technically, he's a civilian observer, an anthropology grad student at Rainier U."

"A college kid? For a partner? Jim, that doesn't sound like you at all."

"Yeah, well. He has a way of working himself under your skin. You'd like him."

"So, does this kid have a name?"

"Blair Sandburg."

Sandra noticed ice blue eyes softening at the mention of the name. "He's special, isn't he? You care for him."

"It's not what you think," Jim answered, a little too quickly.

"He's helped me through some rough times, like any good partner would. I owe him my life, several times over."

"Hmmm...." Sandra answered, noncommittally.

They arrived at the restaurant, and Jim escorted his date inside.

=====||=====

This is not the way you should see me.
This is not the face I recognize.
Could I lay my head down here for a moment?
Would you sing to me like I'm your child?
'Cause I'm not angry, I'm not crying,
I'm just in over my head.
You could be the angel that stayed on my shoulder,
When all of the other angels left.

=====||=====

Blair stared blankly at the flickering computer monitor. He'd been at it for what seemed like hours, and was struggling to concentrate. Hope Jim's enjoying himself, he thought, 'cause I'm
sure not.

Reaching up, he rubbed aching temples with his fingers. Man, don't let me get one of those freaking migraines now! He stood, and headed for the kitchen, intent on finding one of his infamous herbal cures. Rummaging through the cupboards, he finally settled on brewing
some chamomile tea. Nothing was going to touch this mother of all headaches, but perhaps the hot drink would help relax him.

He knew he ought to go to bed. Fighting this wasn't going to make it any easier. He pulled off his glasses, digging knuckles into aching eyes. Man, this really sucks! He trailed back out to the couch, mug of tea in hand. At the very least, he needed to save his work and shut down the computer. Sitting on the couch, he sipped at his tea before placing the mug on the table and turning to his laptop.

Flicking a finger over the mouse pad, he stopped the spiraling screensaver, revealing the active document on the screen. As he opened the dropdown menu to "save," he froze, unable to continue. Oblivious to what was going on around him, Blair's eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor, hitting his head on the coffee table as he went down. The laptop, and a considerable number of papers, went with him. When the convulsions stopped, he lay deathly still.

*

"Jim?" Sandra looked up from her meal when her companion stopped speaking in mid-sentence. "Is something wrong? Jim?" When her questioning didn't rouse him, she reached across the table for his hand, squeezing gently.

The soft touch pulled him back from the edge of a sensory zone-out. "What? Oh, sorry. I don't know what got into me. Something just doesn't feel right. Excuse me a minute." He pulled his hand free, fishing his cell phone from a jacket pocket. Pushing the speed dial for home, he waited until the answering machine picked up, then snapped the phone shut. "I've got to go. Something's wrong."

"What is it? Jim, talk to me."

"Blair isn't answering the phone."

"So? Maybe he's asleep. Or maybe he went out. He's a grown man, Jim. I'm sure he's fine."

"No. You don't understand. When he has school work, he slaves over it. He wouldn't go out. He may have fallen asleep, but he'd answer the phone."

"Maybe not...."

"You don't know Sandburg. I've gotta go." Digging his wallet from his pocket, he extracted a handful of bills, tossing them on the table. "That should cover dinner. Can I take you home?"

"No, thanks. If you're that sure something is wrong, you'd better go. I'll call a cab." As Jim turned to leave, she added, "Please call?

Let me know if everything's okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Good-night, Sandra."

"Good-night," she called to his retreating back.

*

Taking the stairs three at a time, Jim raced up to the loft.

Keys in nervous hands fumbled with the lock, taking precious extra seconds to open. Slamming the door, he entered like a charging bull.

"Blair? Hey, Sandburg! You home?" Dropping his voice to a muted whisper, "Answer me, dammit!"

Stopping to take a deep breath, he centered himself. He hadn't even taken time to look around. The sound of a softly beating heart brought his attention to living room area, and the clutter around one of the couches. Running across the room, he knelt beside his fallen friend. "Damn! It happened again, didn't it, Sandburg? Why didn't you say something?"

Blair was unconscious. A bleeding gash on his forehead and blood on the table were mute testimony to what had happened. Dialing "911" on his cell phone, Jim called for an ambulance. "We're not playing around anymore, Chief. You're going to the hospital."

He lifted the computer from the anthropologist's chest, and gathered up the scattered papers. By the time the paramedics arrived, he had already performed a cursory exam, convincing himself that his friend had nothing worse than a bad concussion.

He convinced the medics to let him ride along in the ambulance.

He feared that if Blair woke up, the disorientation would terrify him if Jim weren't there to reassure him. Right now, he'd say just about anything to stay by the young man's side. If he never left again, it would be too soon.

*

"It's going to be all right." Sandra placed a reassuring hand on Jim's forearm, stopping his incessant pacing. "How did you know something was wrong?"

"We've got a ... connection," Jim mumbled, distracted by his own thoughts.

"Blair's a lucky young man to have you." She kissed him on the cheek. "Look. I need to leave. I got a call after you left, and I have to catch a flight back to Chicago." Jim nodded, but continued to search the hallway for a doctor. "You take care of him, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Good-bye, Jim." She walked off, unnoticed by the distraught detective.

As she disappeared into the elevator, the doctor finally appeared. "James Ellison?"

"Yes. How's Blair, Doctor...?"

"Freeman." He shook Jim's hand in greeting. "Your friend is doing fine. He has a concussion, but nothing too serious. You mentioned he's had seizures recently?"

"Yeah. He told me he was diagnosed with epilepsy as a kid, but hadn't had any seizures for years. It came as quite a shock."

"I can imagine. I'd like to hold him overnight for observation, and to run some tests, but there's no reason he can't go home in the morning. I'd like to put him on Klonopin for a trial period; see how he responds. It's an anticonvulsant," he added by way of explanation.

"Yeah, I know," Jim answered distractedly. "Anything.... Just get these damn seizures under control."

"That's what we're trying to do, Mr. Ellison. Would you like to see Mr. Sandburg?"

"Please." He followed as the doctor led him to a room down the hall.

"Don't stay too long. He's drowsy and needs his rest."

"Thanks, doctor." Jim pushed the door open to the dim room, dialing up his senses to hear the reassuring beat of Blair's heart, and the soft susurration of his breath. Walking over to the bed, he brushed stray strands of wild hair from the high forehead, carefully avoiding the large bandage on the left side.

Blair opened his eyes at the touch. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Babe. I'm here. How're you feeling?"

"Head hurts."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? You whacked yourself pretty good when you fell."

"Did I...?"

"Have another seizure? Yeah, I think so. You knocked yourself unconscious when you fell off the couch."

"Ouch."

Jim chuckled. "I just can't leave you alone, can I?"

Blair turned his head away from Jim, grimacing. "Sorry, man. I spoiled your evening, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't spoil anything. Sandra's a great woman, but she's just a friend. If my meeting her for dinner bothered you, you should have said something."

"We made a deal, man. I was just keeping up my end. You said you needed your space. I was just trying to give that to you." Tears welling in his eyes slid quietly down Blair's cheeks. "I'm sorry. I really screwed up this time."

"You bet your sweet ass, you did! Dammit, Blair, if we're going to have a relationship, you've got to be honest with me. If you don't want me to go, say so!"

"Don't go."

The words were so soft, the sentinel had to strain to hear.

Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on the younger man's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere." He settled into the chair next to the bed, holding Blair's hand until his eyes finally fluttered shut, and sleep took him once more. Like a guardian angel, Blair's Blessed Protector stood watch throughout the night, despite several attempts by the hospital staff to send him home.

*

Dr. Freeman pressed a bottle into Blair's hand. "This is the lowest dosage available. Take one tablet, three times daily with food. I want to see you in a week to run some tests, and see how you're doing on the medication."

Blair screwed up his face, pushing the bottle back toward the doctor. "I don't do drugs, man. No thanks."

"Chief, this isn't negotiable," Jim stated. "I'll see to it he takes them doctor."

"But, Jim...."

"No 'buts', Chief. I'm tired of worrying about you. You're going to do this for me, for *us*."

"He's a damned dictator, you know," Blair addressed the doctor, tilting his head toward his partner. "Do this. Do that. Don't do something else."

"Sounds like just what the doctor ordered." The physician chuckled. "Take care, Blair. And take the medication. I'll see you in a week."

=====||=====

Make it go away, 'cause I am weakening.
This is more than one should have to take.
If you do this for me, then I will promise,
I'll make it go away for you someday.
There are reasons, silver linings,
There are lessons, but I don't care,
'Cause I just need a hand that I can hold onto,
When it's darker than death out there.

=====||=====

Blair balanced the small pill in his hand, reluctant to take the medication.

Jim reached across the dinner table to rest a reassuring hand on the younger man's arm. "Take it, Chief. You promised."

"But, Jim ... they make me so darned tired. I *hate* taking them!"

"Then I'll tuck you into bed, and you can rest."

"I don't *want* to rest, dammit! I want to spend some time with you!"

Jim stood, taking Blair's free hand and pulling him to his feet. "Take it for me now, and I promise you won't regret it."

Looking up into smoldering blue eyes, Blair quickly popped the pill, following it with a swallow of water.

Jim led his charge over to the couch and sat, pulling Blair down beside him. Cupping a cheek in the palm of his hand, he looked deeply into dusky blue eyes. "You," he began. "You are the most important person in my life. I must have been blind not to see it before."

Blair leaned into the caress, his heart skipping a beat at the words that accompanied it; but, for once, he remained silent.

"I couldn't believe what I'd heard, that night you told me you loved me. I've been trying to forget it, or ignore it, or something, but it won't go away." Blair opened his mouth to speak, but Jim
touched his lips with a fingertip, silencing him. "I've been processing, Blair. It takes time. I've never loved a man before. The idea takes some getting used to."

Blair's mouth flew open a second time, but again, Jim silenced him. "Just can't sit quietly, can you?" he chuckled. "Just let me finish. In my own roundabout way, I'm trying to tell you something important."

Blair pressed his lips together, making a zipping motion with his hand.

"I've had a hard time admitting to my feelings, but I ... I ...oh, hell...." Words failing him, he pulled Blair onto his lap.

Tangling fingers in long, silky locks, he leaned down to capture full lips with his own. Blair pressed his body close, opening himself to whatever Jim was willing to give.

Finally, the embrace ended. "Whoa, man. That was *intense*!" Blair smiled up at his best friend and would-be lover. "Does this mean...?"

"We're a couple. Yes. But, Blair, I still have issues. Some things are harder to overcome than others, you know?"

"I understand, man. Anything you want. We'll go at your pace."

Blair fairly bounced with excitement.

"One thing I want ... I need ... is for you to keep taking your medication."

"Anything, man. Anything you want."

"And you have to promise to tell me when something upsets you. We can't have any secrets between us." Blair nodded vigorously. "And this stays between us. It's nobody else's damn business."

"No problem. My lips are sealed."

Laughter erupted from deep within Jim's chest. "Now *that's* something I'd love to see! My Blair, speechless." He smiled.

My Blair. He'd said, "My Blair"! The anthropologist could hardly believe his own ears. Maybe this was for real after all. He held his breath as Jim ran fingers through his hair, cupped his chin and looked deeply into his eyes. He began to tremble, and felt strong arms envelope him and pull him in close. He felt sheltered. Safe. Loved.

=====||=====

Oh, I'm so cold,
And am so far away from my home,
But tonight you're...you're where I belong,
You're everything right when I'm everything wrong.

So, make it go away, or make it better.
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Just make it go away, or make it better,
'Cause I would do either one for you.

=====||=====

Disorientation. The feeling enveloped him as he woke to the darkness in the small hours of the morning. Rolling over, Blair realized what was different. He was in Jim's bed. The sentinel slept
soundly beside him, a slight smile of satisfaction still gracing his stern features. A rush of warmth washed over Blair as he remembered Jim carrying him upstairs to the bedroom as though he were carrying his bride across the threshold of their new home. There had been no sex, but Blair had never felt more cherished and loved. Their tentative caresses and passionate kisses were enough ... for now. Just when Blair had felt everything in his life was going to hell, Jim had
let him in, making everything right again. Sighing contentedly, Blair snuggled down, nestling against the man he loved, knowing that, finally, his love was returned.

*

"It's about time you woke up! We're burning daylight here," Jim greeted him as Blair came down the stairs later that morning. "Simon called. He needs us in this morning. You feeling up to it?"

"Right as rain. Let's go!"

"Not so fast, Chief. Come here." Jim patted the cushion on the couch next to him. "We need to talk."

"'Bout what?" Blair settled himself beside his friend.

"About telling Simon ... about us."

"I thought you didn't want to tell anybody." Blair's eyes held confusion and ... fear?

"Well, no, but I think Simon deserves to know. We confided my sentinel abilities to him."

"Yeah, but we had to. He doesn't have to know about this."

"He can keep the secret, Blair. Besides, he'll guess. He's smart, and way too close to the two of us. If we don't tell him, he *will* figure it out. Then he'll be piss-ass mad we didn't trust him enough to say something."

"I suppose...."

"You nervous?"

"Yeah, I guess. A little."

Jim took his hand, cradling it in his own, larger one. "Would it help you if I said I was nervous, too?" He paused briefly, but not long enough to give the anthropologist time to reply. "I've got
something for you." He pulled a small gift box from his pocket.

"Hey, man! What's this? You didn't have to...."

"I *wanted* to, Blair. It's not much. Just a token. I wanted you to know I was serious."

"'Bout what?" Blair tore at the paper, revealing a small velvet box.

"About us." Jim watched intently as the younger man slowly opened the box to reveal a small diamond ear stud.

Stunned didn't even begin to cover what Blair was feeling as he stared at the sparkling bauble. He sat frozen in place as Jim fumbled to unfasten the top hoop in his left ear, and replace it with the stud.

"People are going to notice, Jim," he stuttered, as his lover finished placing the stud in his ear.

"Not with that hair, they won't," Jim laughed. "And if they do, you can just say your mom sent it to you as a birthday gift, or something."

"Whoa! Hold up a minute, man! I may obfuscate, but I don't *lie*!" He smiled nervously.

"Then obfuscate your heart out. I trust you to come up with something." To stifle further protests, Jim leaned in, capturing expressive lips in a searing kiss.

*

"This is going to be easy. You'll see," Jim assured his partner as they breezed in to Major Crimes.

They had no sooner entered the bull pen area, when a loud voice greeted their arrival. "Ellison! Sandburg! My office...!"

Smiling, Jim placed a hand between Blair's shoulders, pushing him ahead, into the Captain's office.

"Good to see you gentlemen again," Simon greeted the pair as they entered. "Welcome back, Blair. We missed you around here. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just fine, actually." Blair shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm seeing to it he takes his meds," Jim added.

"You got some ID on you now, Sandburg?" the Captain asked.

"Dog tag," the young man answered, pulling the medic alert tag from his shirt. "Less noticeable than a bracelet." He turned to Jim, giving him an "I'll get you for this" look.

"Good. Then you're ready to get back to work?"

"Well, there *is* one more thing, Simon," Jim began.

"Yes?" the Captain prompted, when his lead detective seemed reluctant to continue.

"It's personal, Sir," Jim continued, glancing over at Blair who continued to shift uncomfortably back and forth on his feet. "It's gotta remain in this room, like the sentinel thing."

"All right. Shoot."

"Well, Sir, you see, we ... um...." Words failed him momentarily.

Blair was shuffling his feet, looking down at his shoes, distracting the detective. "Blair, give it rest, okay?" The shuffling stopped, but his partner refused to look up.

"Okay. What's going on with you two?" Captain Banks was rapidly losing patience with the tongue-tied duo.

"Well, Sir, we thought you ought to know, because it could affect our performance, or your own decisions concerning us working together."

"Tell me *WHAT*, for Chrissakes?"

"We're a couple, Simon."

"A couple of *what*? Nut cases?" Banks looked at the two men as if they did, indeed, belong in a room with padded walls.

"No, Simon. A couple. You know ... together."

"Together...?" The Captain was beginning to understand, but wasn't sure he liked the way his thoughts were turning. "As in ... lovers?"

"Um, well ... yeah. Sort of, yeah. We, um, we've committed to each other, but haven't, um, consummated the union yet." He glanced over at Sandburg, who had turned beet red during the conversation.

"You on board with this, Sandburg?" Banks turned to the younger man.

Blair swallowed the lump in throat. "Yes." He choked on the word, and had to clear his throat. "It was my idea, actually."

"I should've known," the Captain groaned. "So what now? You two going to still be able to work together? Because, you know, if the work suffers, I'm splitting you two up as a team."

"Nothing's going to change, Simon," Jim assured him. "I've always been overprotective of the kid. That won't change. And, chances are, he'll be even more willing to protect my butt. We're good to go, Sir. You don't have to worry about us."

"I sure as hell hope not." Sighing, the Captain shuffled through the files on his desk. "Here," he said, handing Jim a folder. "Your next case."

"Thanks, Captain." He turned to leave, Sandburg close on his heels.

"Hey, Sandburg! Nice earring." The Captain chuckled as Blair's hand instinctively went for his ear, fingering the new stud. The pair beat a hasty exit back to Jim's desk.

"I told you he'd notice!" Blair hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hell, Blair, what did you expect? We *told* him! I think he took it rather well, don't you?"

Blair shook his head in resignation. "If you say so."

=====||=====

Ah, make it go away, or make it better.
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Just make it go away, or make it better,
'Cause I would do either one for you.

=====||=====

"You *TOLD* him! God! I can't believe you told him, man!" Blair flew around the loft, gesticulating wildly.

"We discussed it. You agreed. I thought you were okay with it."

"Telling Simon we were a couple, yes. Telling him we hadn't *consummated* our relationship? Jim, what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't. I guess ... I wasn't. I'm sorry, Blair. It just came out. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that."

"Well, you did, man! Damn!" He continued pacing the room, blowing off steam. When he stopped to grind fists into his temples, Jim was immediately at his side.

"Calm down, Chief. You're working yourself up over nothing." He pulled the fists down, replacing them with his own hands giving a gentle massage. "Don't do this to yourself. Simon's not going to say anything. Relax." He felt arms encircle his waist. Dropping his own arms to embrace his lover, he smiled. "You know, we can do something about that, if you're ready...." He leaned down to plant a moist kiss against Blair's temple.

Blair molded his body to Jim's, making his readiness apparent to his highly sensitized partner. Tilting tear-stained cheeks upward, Blair captured Jim's mouth, his tongue darting between open lips.

Balanced on the razor's edge of sensory overload, the sentinel pulled back. "How about we move this upstairs?" Taking Blair's hand, he led his willing lover to the upper level of the loft.

"What now?"

Blair's shy question elicited a feral smile from the sentinel. "You're the Guide. You tell me...."

*

"So, Blair, how are things going for you?" Doctor Freeman asked.

"Great."

"And you're still taking the Klonopin three times daily?"

"Jim sees to that." Blair laughed.

"Any problems?"

"Just the usual side effects you warned me about; drowsiness, a little irritability. Nothing bad. We're coping."

"And there have been no more seizures?"

"Nope. Everything's under control. Jim refuses to let me get upset enough to trigger one, anyway. He's got an incredible way of calming me down." Blair's face reflected a wistful smile. Shaking himself out of the memory of the night he and Jim had made love for the first time, he grinned at the doctor. "Everything's better now. Thanks."

"Glad to hear it. Well, I guess I don't need to see you again, then, unless there are more problems.

"Don't worry, there won't be." Blair slid off the exam table, grabbing his coat.

"Remember, Blair, you have to keep taking the medication. This isn't something that gets better with time."

"I know, Doctor. I'll behave." He smiled, lifting a hand to wave good-bye as he walked through the door.

The doctor watched as his patient joined his partner, who had been waiting in the lounge. He grinned as the two wrapped arms around each other's waists and walked out of the clinic together. Love is a powerful motivation, he mused.

THE END

"Make It Go Away"
Performed by Holly Cole
"Dark Dear Hear" Album
1997, Capitol Records, Inc.