His Master's Voice 15

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 15
By CatMoran
*****

Simon remained outside the door, staring at Blair.

Jim dropped gracelessly onto the couch with a poorly stifled grunt of pain. Blair looked at the fatigued man and spun back to face Simon. He demanded, "What the *hell* did you do to Jim?"

Simon took one look at Blair's fangs, now displayed prominently in anger, and began backing away at high velocity.

With a snarl of frustration, Blair yanked off his sunglasses and barked at the human, "Simon, forget what you just saw and come here." Simon immediately stopped his rapid flight and approached the vampire. Blair demanded, "What happened to Jim?" Simon stood stock still, with a vacant look on his face.

Blair groaned and pointed to the living area. "Go sit down." Simon walked past Blair in the direction the vampire pointed, and sat on the floor.

Jim, who up until that point had watched the exchange in nervous fascination, chuckled. "I think I see more tests in your future, Chief."

Careful not to look at the other man, Blair replied, "Laugh it up, smart guy. I'll deal with you next." Under his breath he added, "Dammit, this is like trying to control that screwy AI robot Dr. Lewis is training."

He approached Simon. "Stand up." He added, "Follow me," and led the big cop to the other couch. Once there he ordered, "Sit on the couch and wait for me." He waited until Simon was obediently seated, then replaced his sunglasses and turned to Jim.

"All right, what happened?" Blair stared at Jim, the picture of annoyed concern.

Quirking an eyebrow at his Captain then at Blair, Jim asked, "Do you think it's ok to leave him like that?"

"It's more ok than having him run out of here in terror then coming back with torch-wielding villagers. Now, what happened to you today?"

"Single-minded little guy, aren't you?" Jim grumbled.

"At least I *have* a mind. But I'm going to lose it soon if you don't tell me what happened!"

Jim grimaced as he raised his arms in a casual warding gesture. "I just went out with Taggert to investigate the arson case."

"You went out without backup? Jim, are you insane?"

"Blair, I *had* backup! It's Joel's case, I was with him."

"That's not what I mean, Jim, and you know it. Joel can't back you on your senses, man."

Jim groaned, "Nothing went wrong with my senses, Blair. We just startled the suspect in the middle of setting up his next job and while we were tracking him on the roof, he got the drop on me."

Blair crossed his arms and nodded with a knowing frown. "And he got the drop on you because...?"

"I wasn't zoned, Chief. The smell of the accelerant just..."

"Just overwhelmed your senses, right?"

"Yes, right," Jim agreed with a glare.

"So he got the drop on you and then what happened?"

Jim looked away. "Do we really need to get into this now, Chief? I'd kind of like to take a shower."

"I guess it can wait until later. Just tell me you won't run out without backup again."

The Sentinel turned a pleading look on his guide. "Blair, what am I supposed to do? I can't stay at my desk forever."

Blair shook his head. "Jim, we'll figure something out. I'll work nights with you until we know my limits during the day; maybe you can volunteer for some stakeouts or something. Just promise you won't do that again, ok?"

Jim nodded, "I'll try, Blair. What are you going to do about him?" He jerked his head to indicate Simon.

Blair knew that was probably the best promise he could get out of the older man. "Go on and take your shower. I'll de-zombie him and try to talk to him."

While Jim headed into the bathroom, Blair went upstairs and collected a set of fresh clothes for him, so that he wouldn't have to walk past his boss in just a towel. Blair couldn't resist a smirk at the thought, but he was selfish and not inclined to let anyone else see his sentinel.

When Blair delivered the clothing to the bathroom, he helped Jim out of his t-shirt. The older man had been reluctant to ask for help, but he could barely raise his arms to get the shirt over his head.

When Blair was sure Jim could handle things on his own, he returned to the living room. He crouched in front of Simon and regarded his blank face for a moment. "Ok, Simon. Time to wake up, man." He waved a hand in front of Simon's face. No reaction. He snapped his fingers in his face. Still no reaction. Finally, he took him by the shoulders and shook. "Simon, wake up!"

That got a reaction. Simon suddenly knocked Blair's hands away and stood up. Eyes wide and expression shocked, he moved quickly away from the much smaller man. "Sandburg, what are you doing here?"

Blair stood and with a quirk of a grin he replied, "I live here, Simon."

"You're supposed to be dead!"

Blair shrugged, "I got better?"

Stepping forward Simon demanded, "Open your mouth."

Blair stepped back, his face almost expressionless. "Why?"

"Just do it, Sandburg!"

Blair glared up at the bigger man. "Sorry, you're not my dentist."

"I don't care if I'm not your rabbi, open your mouth!"

Blair chuckled uneasily, "Simon, what is this? You're acting nuts, man."

"That's *Captain* to you, Sandburg-" Simon stopped and shook his head. "Aw hell, you're right. I don't know what I'm thinking... I'm remembering some kind of crazy dream, I guess." With a puzzled frown, Simon sat back down.

Blair sat across from him. "It's ok, Captain." He snorted. "It's a little unusual to have a friend come back from the dead, I think I can forgive you for freaking out."

Simon turned and growled. "I did *not* freak out, Sandburg."

Blair chuckled, "Right, Captain."

"So, what happened, Blair? Why didn't Jim tell us you were back? We've been looking all over for your body, dammit!" Simon's voice rose to a shout on the last statement.

Blair rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while he thought. "Yeah, sorry about that, Simon. It's a little complicated, but the short story is that I asked Jim not to tell anyone I'm alive. He sort of agreed with my reasons, so..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged uncertainly.

"Right. So, how about telling me the long version? And while you're at it, maybe you could explain why you look perfectly fine? I saw your body in the hospital--you should have been in the hospital for weeks."

"It's sort of a long story, Simon. Are you really sure you want to hear it? I mean, can't we just put it off as a 'Sentinel' thing and leave it at that?" Blair looked at him hopefully.

"No we can't." Simon sighed. "And could you take off those sunglasses already? It's hardly bright in here, what are you wearing them for?"

"Well, see, Simon, that's part of it. Um... Ok. I came home sometime Tuesday night. I didn't, and still don't, remember anything about the accident. I remember leaving the station to get lunch; then I remember waking up in the morgue. And *man*, was that creepy!" Simon glared at him. "Right, the story. Anyway, I found some scrubs and caught a cab home. I didn't know why I was in the morgue, and I don't know why I'm not dead." Blair shrugged. "There's a couple things I do know, and one is that my eyes are real sensitive to light, that's why I'm wearing the sunglasses. That's also part of why I didn't want anyone to know I'm alive, because it would be a little weird, ya know? So that's, sort of, that."

Simon sat forward, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped. "Blair, let me get this straight. You just came back from the dead, and you're worried that people will think that sensitive eyes are a little weird?"

"Well, yeah, Simon. I mean, my eyes were never this sensitive before. I hardly ever wore sunglasses, and now I need them all the time."

"Right." Simon sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, Simon! Not at all. It's just... a lot of weirdness, ok? I'm trying to sort of figure things out one at a time."

"Ok, Blair. How about you tell me everything that's so strange. Maybe I can help, right?"

Blair was relieved to hear the bathroom door open. He turned toward the door. "Hey, Jim. You feeling better?"

Jim walked out in workout pants and a loose shirt. "Cleaner, anyway. So, have you settled anything?" Directing his attention to Simon as he added, "I'm sure Blair told you about his eyes. Could I move to nightshift so he can go back to riding with me?"

Simon made a sound of disbelief. "Jim, would one of you just tell me what the hell is going on? Nothing the kid's said so far has explained a thing to me."

Jim started, "Well, Simon-"

Simon held up a hand, "And let me add, that I won't approve anything until I hear the whole story. I have a feeling I'm the one who will be tap-dancing with the brass to explain his miraculous reappearance. So, give."

Jim and Blair exchanged looks, and Jim walked to the couch to sit next to his partner and mate. "Blair?"

"You sure, Jim?"

"If we can't tell Simon..."

Simon watched the cryptic exchange with increasing irritation. "Will *someone* tell me what's going on?"

"Simon, promise you won't freak?" Blair begged.

"I told you Sandburg, I don't freak out!" Simon barked.

Blair glanced at Jim nervously. "I'm... not exactly alive, Simon." With what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he displayed his fangs.

The End
(c) CatMoran 2000