Title: BACKSTREET LOVE

Author/pseudonym: PEJA

Fandom: THE SENTINEL

Pairing: Jim/UNDERAGE Blair

Rating: NC-17

Status: New WIP

CRIT: First Post

Archive: Yes, the WWOMB. PEJA's Ravings. Anywhere else is fine as long as you contact me for permission

E-mail address for feedback: daltonavon@yahoo.com

Series/Sequel: no way of knowing is there?

Other websites: https://www.squidge.org/~peja

Disclaimers: They are not mine....no matter how much I pretend....

Notes: This is another AU set in dark and dangerous times. Blair is a hooker, guys...Not a grad student. Jim is a cop, but not who he is in canon.

Summary: Jim stops the beating of a beautiful hooker......and the rest is fate.

Warnings: Be prepared. Do not come here expecting to find the Jim and Blair of old....I never write them just so, do I?

Blair is under 17 in this one...so you know what that means...If you don't do that, direct cursor to the delete and ignore the post. But don't blame me when you discover that the hookers on the street are not your typical legal age floozies.

 
BACKSTREET LOVE
By PEJA
 
Jim Ellison slowed. There it was again. The soft thud of flesh on flesh. An agonized groan. The smell of blood in the midnight air. Drawing his gun, he padded toward the dirty alley and pressed his back against the storefront. He forced himself to take several calming breaths then peered around the corner.

One victim down.

Long curls hid the vic's face but the deep moans were definitely male. Young, but most certainly male.

A gang-banger, maybe.

As Jim assessed the scene before his eyes, the prep reared back and kicked the downed youth in the side. The boy curled tighter in on himself, whimpering.

Had that been a rib cracking?

Unable to wait for putting in a call for back-up, Jim stepped around the corner, his gun held rigidly before him. "Cascade police. Freeze."

The prep swung around in mid kick. Scowling angrily, he whirled back on the young man. "Stay off this street, whore," he ground out, then spun on his heel and darted into the shadows.

"Damn," Jim snarled, sprinting after the runner. A low moan brought his attention back to the victim and he whirled around.

The young man was dragging himself into the dark recesses of the alley, making for the shadows behind a heavily loaded, foul smelling garbage container.

"Whoa up there, chief," he said, hurrying to the injured boy's side and crouching down on one knee.

The boy shook Jim's hand off. "Let me...go, man," he gasped. "....didn't do anything."

"Relax. I'm not holding you for anything, kid," Jim assured him.

The injured youth shrugged him off again. "Leave me alone. I didn’t do nothing."

"Come on, Chief. Relax." He reached for the boy again.

"No, don't touch me. Don't. I didn't do anything. You can't prove...."

Jim retreated, his hands held at shoulder height. "What the hell is wrong with you, kid? I'm just trying to help you, for Christ's sake."

The youth began pulling himself through the grimy alley again, muttering, "Yeah, right. The righteous cop wants to help the fucked up street runner." He snorted. "Right into a fucking jail cell. Well, I'm here to tell ya, I ain't going."

"This is enough." Jim caught his arm, halting him and rolled him over on his back. "Lie still," he commanded as the boy continued to squirm. "Dammit, I said lie still and let me check your injuries."

The boy stilled on the second warning, but Jim could feel him trembling under his hands. "It's okay," he murmured, running his hands over the victim's body. "No one's going to hurt you now."

The boy snorted. "As if."

Jim's glance darted to the boy's face and his breath froze in his chest. Even with the swelling eyes and busted lip the boy was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in this lifetime.

"Pretty terrible, huh?" The boy whispered, touching the bruise forming on his high cheekbone. "There goes my gig for tonight."

Jim blinked. "Huh? No, no, kid. You look fine. You'll be all right."

"Yeah, right," the kid said. "Standard cop double talk. They got a course at the cop academy called tell the vic what they want to hear, right?" He lifted his hand, revealing a bloody gash across his stomach. "Fuck....I've been gutted."

Instantly alert, Jim tore the boy's shirt apart without hesitation. A quick examination of the wound eased his fears. "It's not very deep. Needs cleaning and bandaging, though."

"Like you would know."

"Yeah." Jim met the boy's eyes. "I know. Did some medic time.... Look, Kid, think you could tell me your name? It would be easier talking to you if I had a name to attach to the face," Jim flipped open his cell, speed-dialing a number he used way too often. "Kid? Your name?"

Blair tried a sullen frown without success. He sighed shortly. "Blair."

Jim smiled, patting the boy's arm and spoke into the phone, demanding assistance and an ambulance.

"No," Blair cried out, hissing through clenched teeth as his injuries jangled his nerve-endings. "No ambo."

Jim cut his call, turning a concerned gaze on the boy. "It's all right, Blair."

The youth's eyes glazed with panic. "No." He pushed up clumsily. "No ambulance." Then slumped back down. "No hospitals." He got his arms awkwardly under him. "No doctors." One arm went out and he crashed back down, groaning against the pain that seared him. "No, please."

"Easy, Blair." Jim resettled Blair, easing the weight of his limp body off the bleeding arm. "Now look what you've done to yourself," he murmured, ripping open the boy's sleeve to find yet another tear in pale skin. "That guy who assaulted you was out to inflict major damage, Blair. You need medical attention."

"I won't," Blair husked. "I won't go. I won't stay. You can't make me."

"What? I should let you die from injuries that could be handled easily? These cuts will very likely putrefy if you don't take care of them."

"I'm fine, man," Blair protested. "Just need to slap a little antiseptic on and ...."

"You are going to the hospital, Blair. No arguments."

The boy's hair swung in a wide declining arch. "Won't. No way. You ain't my mama."

"Okay, Blair." Jim laid a restraining hand on the boy's shoulder. "I can't force you to go."

"Damn right, you can't."

"Listen, Blair, you're the victim and a witness in this crime."

"I didn't see nothing."

Jim frowned. "So that's how it is? Okay...you're in curfew violation, kid. I can hold you until your parents come in to pick you up."

Blair glared. "Lots of luck."

The comment spiked a red flag. "What do you mean, Blair."

Blair fingered the edge of the gash in his stomach.

Jim shoved the picking fingers away. "Stop that and answer my question, Kid...."

Blair turned his head, staring toward the street. "I ain't got no damn parents, okay? That what you want to hear?"

Jim touched Blair's arm. "You're living on the streets."

Blair went still for a long moment, staring at the hand touching his arm. As if by magic, the sullen youth vanished. Blair lifted smoldering blue eyes to the worried gaze. A sultry smile curved his generous lips. "I got a room, big guy." His unbloodied hand toyed with a button on Jim's shirt. "A nice one." He slanted his blue flame glance over Jim's muscular body and moistened his lips. "Want to see?"

Jim reared back, his eyes narrowing. "Jesus, kid...."

"What?" Blair turned a look of pure innocence on him. "What did I say?"

Whatever Jim might have said was lost in a flurry of activity as the EMTs arrived and shoved him back out of the way. Blair's desperate glance met Jim's once, then turned down, closing everyone and everything off.

Jim took a step forward, intending on reassuring the boy, but a hand caught his forearm and he was suddenly locked into directing the blues on the search for the prep.

The slam of ambulance doors brought his attention back to Blair. He excused himself from the official huddle and dashed across the alley to intercept the med tech climbing into the passenger side.

"You're taking him to Cascade General?"

The medic shook his head grimacing. "Stubborn kid refused. We got him bandaged up...for what it's worth and on his feet."

"Where is he?"

The medic shrugged. "Jetted while we were packing up."

Jim scored the man with a laser glare. "You let him go?"

"Not my job to keep him here."

Jim raked through his longish hair. "I ought to take you in."

The medic lifted a skeptical brow. "On what charge?"

Jim scoured him with another laser glare then whirled on his heel, scanning the area for any sign of the runaway vic. Nothing. He narrowed his focus without thought. Sight failed to find anything, but....the slight metallic copper blood scent tickled his nostrils.

He did not stop to ask himself why he was suddenly able to identify the elusive odor. He just sprinted off in its wake.

"It'll be a miracle if he gets four blocks, you ask me," trailed after him.

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

Blair staggered against the wall sucking a hash breath through clenched teeth as his ribs grated against each other. "Damn cop," he grumbled, slumping heavily. "Damn Papa Jack." He rubbed his eyes, trying to force back his narrowing vision. "Damn fucking worthless idiot bitch whore Sandbu...." His knees unlocked and his body began a slow slid toward hard sidewalk.

"Whoa up there, Chief." Strong arms caught him up and lifted him high to cradle his tender body against a warm, hard-soft chest.

"Ah....fuck...." His vision shut down as he slid behind the dark veil of unconsciousness.

 

PART TWO

Waking came slowly, through a curtain of confusion and with a muzzy head.

Cramped muscles screamed against the silky softness of sheets. Clean sheets. How unusual. Blair buried his nose in the sweetness and sighed in his exhaustion. Clean sheets? Damn that was a first.

Still half-submerged in the mists of sleep, he stretched.

The scream was out before he could stop himself.

He curled back into a tight ball as fire dashed over his battered nerve endings. "Oh....Ooowww. Oooowww. Oooowww. God....ooowww...."

A hand wavered in front of his eyes, holding out a couple pills. "Broken ribs aren't much fun, are they?"

Moving with great caution, Blair managed to roll over onto his back and stared up into vaguely familiar blue eyes. "What'd ya do to me, man?"

Jim grimaced. "Saved your life, more than likely. Grateful little punk, aren't you?" He waved the pills under Blair's nose pointedly. "Take 'em. I had a doctor friend take a look at you here at the loft since you..."

"Doctor..." Blair surged upwards, regretting it instantly as his battered body retaliated with force. Blair slumped down, tearing open his lower lip as he fought to retain his dignity. "Oh, God. Oh, man, I gotta get out of here...."

Scowling darkly, Jim grabbed Blair's lower jaw and forced the pills between pried open teeth. He pressed a glass of water on the stunned youth and poured.

Not wanting to drown under the stream, Blair swallowed and the pills went down.

A malicious smile curved Jim's lips. "Now, that's better."

Blair glared. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You know, I probably should have just left you sprawled on the street for the garbage collectors to pick up."

The kid sneered, turning his face to the wall. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Jim opened his mouth, then shut it with a teeth-clicking snap, the youth's soft words filtering through his rage. "Listen, kid, I'm sorry I said that. It was way out of line.

"Yeah, well, that ain't an all time first either." Blair laughed dryly. "Am I under arrest?"

Jim shook his head, drawing up a chair to the bed. "Does this look like a jail cell?"

Blair arched a sardonic brow. "You look like a cop. Cops either arrest my kind, or take us home for the night. Either way people like me get fucked."

Jim laid a hand on the boy's arm. "You're in my home, Blair. I won't..."

"So, I'm gonna get fucked, huh? How ya want it, big guy. Oral? Butt fuck? Hand job? I don't do rimming or kinky...Not without a damn good-sized hunk of change. Don't reckon you can afford it, being a cop and all. Course you could threaten me with lock-up, and then I'm about willing to do anything to keep my ass out of there. Oh, and I gotta admit I ain't never done nobody hurting like this, but I'm sure I can please ya."

"Jesus, kid. You need a good mouthful of soap."

Blair turned wide eyes on him. "Are you for real, man?" he demanded. "You’re the dude wants to get his pecker into the young meat."

"Shut the hell up, Blair. I won't have that kind of bullshit talk in my home." Jim said, his voice dangerously soft. "I brought you here to keep you out of the hands of your attacker. Once we catch up with him we're going to need you to I.D him. The trial...."

"Oh, whoa up there, man," Blair struggled to get his elbows under him and lift himself up. "I ain't doing no trial scene. I ain't filing no complaint. What you wanna do? Get me popped? You're crazy, man. Let me outta here."

Jim stood and eased the youth back down on the bed. "Ease up, Chief." He smiled, brushing back the curls that fell rebelliously over flashing blue eyes. "You really have a chip on that shoulder of yours, don't you?"

An answering smile ghosted across Blair's full lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Jim said softly. "I think so. Don't worry kid, you're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you while you're under my protection."

Yawning, Blair tilted his head. "I'm sure that's meant to reassure me, man. Trouble is life's taught me better."

Jim leaned back in his chair. "Get some rest, Kid. I'll be here when you wake up."

Blair eyed him narrowly. "You just don't get it man."

"Sleep. We'll talk later."

Blair's lids drifted shut. "Damn fucking cop. You drugged my ass, didn't ya? When I can get off this be....ah...zzzzz."

"No, Chief, it's you who just doesn't get it." Jim stood and tucked the boy in, then took the chair again to wait.



 
CHAPTER THREE

Jim woke, stiff and cramped from sleeping in the chair, to find worried blue eyes watching him. He shifted forward, dropping a hand on the youth's forehead. Warm, but not dangerously.

"How are you feeling?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Why, want to sample the wares?"

Jim sighed. "I'm not interested in using you that way, Blair?"

Blair touched his bruised and battered face. "I suppose I don't appeal like this, huh?" Sharp teeth sliced through his puffed lip. "Damn, I missed the evening’s gig for sure, haven’t I? Looks like it's gonna be a hungry week or so."

"Stop worrying about that...."

"Yeah, right." Blair eased over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "No worries. Who needs flow? I can eat air, for sure."

"Listen, Kid...."

"You ain't got nothing to say I want to hear, cop," Blair said. "How long you think you can keep me here, anyway?"

"As long as it takes."

Blair snorted. "So I am your prisoner, then?"

"I said not," Jim snapped. "You are here under my protection. I don't want you back out on the streets with your attacker on the loose."

Blair slanted him a curious look. "Why should it matter to you?"

"I'm a cop. That's what I do."

Blair snorted. "Cut the bull."

"What have you got against cops, Kid? We're there to protect you."

Blair laughed harshly, then gasped for air when his ribs protested the abuse.

Jim sprang forward to help, but Blair winced away, his eyes wide with terror.

"Blair...."

"Don't...." Blair flung his hands up, cringing away from the bigger man.

Jim eased closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Easy, kid. You can trust me."

"Trust," Blair's generous lips curled into an ugly sneer. "Oh yeah, sure. Like Pretty Boy trusted you cops? And Gussy? Like you protected them when the Pepperbacks came after them.

"Pretty Boy?" Jim snapped. "Gussy?" His eyes narrowed. "Blair, what do you know about those kids?"

"Leave me alone, will ya? Just leave me alone."

"I can't do that forever, Blair. Not after what you just said." Jim's hands grasped Blair’s trembling forearms. "But it can wait until you’ve rested up some. Lie back down, now. You need to rest."

Tears glimmered in blue eyes. "I gotta go, man. I gotta get back out there."

Jim brushed wild curls back from Blair's pale face, smiling his reassurance. "Later."

"You don't understand...."

"You worry to much, Chief," Jim said softly. "Are you hungry?"

Blair stared up at him silently.

"I bet you are." Jim drew the sheet up over Blair's lean frame. "You rest while I whip something up for us, okay?" Rising and moving away, Jim stopped at the French doors. "You want anything just call out. I'll hear you."

"Yeah? Well I want the key to the front door, Man," Blair snapped. "I want to go. You gonna give me the word to jet?"

Jim shook his head, wandering out into the main living area.

Alone, Blair shrugged the sheet off and cautiously got himself sitting up. Sweat poured down his face as he found the edge of the bed and rose unsteadily to his feet.

Blue eyes scoured the sparsely furnished room for his clothes. There, on the side table. He shuffled across the room. Leaning heavily on the chunky table, he pulled a ragged breath. His hands shook violently as his fingers closed over shirt and jeans.

Turning back toward the bed, Blair took a tentative step, but his knees gave way. He fell heavily, crying out, the pain in his battered body dragging him back into unconsciousness.

Moments later, or was it hours, Blair groaned himself awake. His wide-eyed gaze meshed with the big cop's and darted away.

"That was stupid, Blair."

Blair shrugged, regretting it instantly.

"Want to tell me what you thought you were doing?"

Blair glared up at him silently.

"No, I didn't think so." Jim sighed, "Look, Chief, you can either stay here or Juvy hall. You tell me which it’s going to be."

Blair's darting glance rocketed back to Jim’s. "Why are you doing this?"

Jim tilted his head, curious. "What?"

"Keeping me here. Why are you keeping me here?"

"Considering all the trouble you're turning out to be I wish to hell I knew." Jim twisted, reaching, then handed a steaming bowl of soup to the glowering boy-man. "It's not much. Chicken noodle. From a can. But it's hot and it's supposed to be good for you."

"My mom always says canned soups are the excep....." Blair's teeth snapped shut with a loud click.

"What, Blair," Jim asked, leaning forward wolfishly. "What does your mom say?"

Blair glowered up at him. "I ain't got nothing to say. Leave me alone, will ya? Or get me a lawyer."

"What do you need a lawyer for, Chief. You're here as my....guest..."

Blair sneered. "Guests can leave."

"Am I holding you down? Are you tied up to the bedframe?"

"Kinky." Blair grinned, back on ground he knew. "That what you like to do, big guy? Tie down the whores?"

"Blair....."

Feigned innocence glowed in blue eyes. "I really am a superstar stud, cop. I wouldn't mind giving you a freebie, just this once, ya know..."

Jim ground his teeth, willing his cock to go down in his pants before the kid caught on to his distress.

A soft hand landed in Jim's lap and the boy grinned. "You been holding out on me, big guy." His fingers measured the hard flesh under them and his grin widened. "And I do mean big guy....Wow..."

Jim batted the caressing hand away from his groin. "Don't do that."

"Come on, man. I turn your ass on so why play the goody-goody. Whose gonna know?"

"Me," Jim snapped, "I'll know. And I said no."

Blair's lower lip jutted and he laid the bowl aside untouched. "I don't take nothing for nothing. Better take me down to JH."

Jim rose to his feet. "If that's how you want it." He waved a hand for Blair to get up. "On your feet, kid."

Blair met his hard stare with fear. "You really would, wouldn't you? Lock me up, I mean?"

Jim crossed his arms over his chest. "I said on your feet."

What little color Blair had in his face bled out. He sucked in a shaky breath and staggered up. "I won't stay," Blair said. "I'll escape. I always do."

"That so?" Jim said coldly, "Then maybe we need to consider putting you in max security."

Blair turned to him, a mask of pure loathing dropping over the young features. "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do." He turned, wincing as he placed his hands behind his back for the cuffs.

"That won't be necessary, you stubborn little brat."

Blair arched a glance over his shoulder.

Jim leaned down to snatch up the cooling soup. "I'm moving you out to the living area so I can keep an eye on you, kid."

Blair's tears shook his shoulders as he floated toward the floor.

Jim scrambled to catch the youth, feeling the shock of contact ripple through the small frame.

Blair moaned softly, his head lolling back and his eyes rolling back in his head as flames of agony licked his ribs.

"Stay with me, kid," Jim cooed. "God, you should be in hospital."

"No," Blair slurred through numbed lips. "I’ll... run."

Jim scooped the boy up in his arms, smiling into unfocused eyes. "You won’t run, Blair. You know a good thing when you land in it.

Blair’s head rolled on Jim’s arm until it rested on his chest. "A good thing," he said through a pained chuckle. "Yeah, right."

Jim eased his burden onto the sofa. "Sit still," he murmured, unable to resist the urge to rake through Blair’s unruly curls. "I want to set some pillows up behind you."

Blair cast a curious glance at his captor through his lashes and a sad smile ghosted his pale lips. "I’m getting to ya, ain’t I?"

Jim hesitated in fluffing the pillows. "Yeah, sure, kid. I get turned on by a bad mouthed brat who can’t be trusted." He thrust the pillow in his hands against the armrest and stepped away. "Lie down."

Blair leaned back, grinning up at the bigger man’s back. "I knew you were kinky."

Jim paused in getting the kid comfortable, then grinned. "You just keep imagining, kid. That’s as close as you’re getting to knowing what being in bed with me feels like."

Blair’s lip jutted mutinously. "Prick."

 Jim was saved from responding as his cell phone went off. Eyeing the mutinous kid with serious warning, he flipped open the phone. "Ellison."

"Ellison, where the hell are you?" Simon’s belligerent snarl crept into Jim’s ear, tugging a grin from him. "You forget we had a poker game tonight at Rafe’s?"

"’Fraid so, Simon." Jim stepped away from the boy, silently warning him to stay put with a hard glare and a finger.

"Yea, sure. I’m betting you got the door rigged to shock me if I tried it anyway." Blair grumbled, his shadowed gaze following Jim into the kitchen.

 Soon as Jim disappeared behind the wall, Blair dove into his pocket and pulled out his own cell. He hit the speed dial and waited impatiently for the connection.

"Talk to me."

"Papa Jack...." Blair said softly. "It’s me, Blair...."

"Blair, where the fuck have you gotten off to this time, brat? You missed your gig."

"One of the Pepperbacks jumped me, Papa," Blair said, chewing his lower lip. "I’m....A cop took me back to his place and...Papa, I think I’m in trouble, here."

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. "Blair, do you know where you are?"

"No," he said, his voice raising. "I was unconscious when Ellison brought me here."

"Are you, well Jesus you can’t be arrested if he’s taken you to his place..."

"He says he’s keeping me here under protection, Papa. But he won’t let me leave. I’ve offered him whatever he wants, but he won’t bite." Blair glanced back toward the kitchen. "Papa, I’m scared."



END PART 3