By CatMoran
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I don't own the canon characters or concept; I do own this story.
Summary: We continue with the saga of a vampire and his sentinel.
Warning: Not beta'd.
His Master's Voice 11
By CatMoran
*****
Once outside the building, Blair moved swiftly down Prospect. He appeared to be walking, but Jim had to break into a jog to keep up.
Three blocks from the loft, Blair cut across the park to the bay. Jim was now running to keep up, and hoping that Blair would slow down or stop soon.
A mile from the loft, Jim began to fall back. Anxious not to loose his friend, he called out. "Sandburg? Hey, Blair! Can you slow it down a little?"
Abruptly, Blair stopped and turned.
Jim came to a stop in front of him, panting lightly. "Shit, Chief. We should sign you up for the Rainier track & field team!"
"Yeah, or Ringling Brothers." Blair's face was expressionless, but his voice was saturated with bitterness.
Jim blinked in mild surprise. "I thought that was my line?"
"Well, we're in the same boat now."
"And what boat is that?" Jim pointed to a bench facing the bay. "Want to take a load off?"
Blair nodded and led the way to the bench. "The 'my mom thinks I'm a freak' boat."
Jim winced. "Naomi's just surprised. She'll be ok in a while, give her time."
"How much time does she need? *She*'s the one who monkeyed around with a vampire!" Blair's hands seemed to fly, as they accompanied his words.
Jim dodged to avoid being hit accidentally. "I'm not sure about that, Blair. He was at least passing as human the whole time she knew him."
Blair whipped around to face him. "So how'd I end up with *these*?" He opened his mouth wide and pointed to his fangs with both hands.
Jim frowned. "Probably from your father," he admitted. "My point is, I don't think Naomi realized this was a possibility until tonight."
Blair looked out over the bay. "So you're siding with her?"
"*What*? Where'd you get that, Sandburg? I just think you should give her a break, give her time to get used to it."
"It didn't take *you* any time to get used to it."
"I think it did."
"Five minutes, Jim. Tops. It took you five minutes to go from total freak-out to joking with me."
Jim shrugged. "So maybe I've just got a higher threshold for weird."
Blair snorted. "Higher than my mom's?"
"Maybe there're different thresholds for different kinds of weird?" Jim looked at him hopefully.
"Jim, I think my mom is a master of just about every kind of weird."
Almost too quietly to be heard, Jim suggested, "Maybe it takes a freak to love a freak?"
Blair turned his head to study his friend.
"*What*, Sandburg?" Jim wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by the scrutiny.
"I don't think you're a freak, Jim."
"Ok, how about I'm no more of a freak than you are?" Jim's mouth quirked in an uncertain smile.
"Oh, I think you'd have to be a lot freakier to catch up with me, man."
Jim looked out over the bay. "I can see a party barge anchored about three miles out."
Blair looked in the same direction. "The one with the green and white awning?"
With a note of challenge to his voice Jim said, "I can smell cold fried chicken and pasta salad."
Blair grimaced at the mention of cold chicken then smirked, "I can see that the peas in the salad were frozen."
Jim cocked his head and concentrated for a moment. "They're debating whether they should bring the boat back in now, or put the sides down and camp overnight."
"Two of them would rather be necking."
Jim stared at Blair. Blair smiled in triumph and said, "Heat patterns!" Jim rolled his eyes and Blair laughed.
"I guess your eyes are ok? I should have asked before."
Blair blinked a couple of times. "They seem to be. They're still a little sore, though."
"Maybe we should put some more drops in them when we get back to the loft."
Blair deflated at the mention of the loft. "Sure. Do you think it's safe to try that test again?"
"Maybe. If we can find a way to protect your eyes."
Blair nodded.
Both men were silent for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts as they looked out over the water; each seeing things that ordinary people could only imagine.
"Jim?"
"Yeah, Chief?"
"How did you mean it, when you said you love me?"
"Did I say that?"
"Well, you said it takes a freak to love a freak; and you seemed to be referring to us. Even though you aren't a freak."
"Yeah, I guess I did say that," Jim reluctantly admitted.
"Were you talking about us?"
"I guess." Jim's face was almost completely expressionless, but Blair could see the anxiety in the tension of his jaw.
Blair asked, "How did you mean it, Jim?"
Jim answered with his own question. "What were you going to do when you got your doctorate, Sandburg?"
"I don't know, Jim."
"Were you planning on staying here?"
"I guess it would depend on whether you asked me to stay."
Jim turned his head barely far enough to look at Blair. "Will you stay, Blair?"
"Yeah." Blair smiled. "I love you too, Jim."
The End
(c) CatMoran 2000