His Master's Voice 16

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 16
By CatMoran
*****

Simon looked from Blair's teeth to Jim's face and back again. He shifted on the couch, carefully drew his weapon and released the safety, and took aim at Blair.

As Blair raised his arm to remove his sunglasses, Jim stood and placed himself in the line of sight between the two men. He gently caught Blair's wrist and lowered his arm. "Wait, Blair." Turning to face Simon he calmly added, "If you shoot him, I will kill you."

Simon ignored the promise and held his aim steady. If he had to, he would shoot his detective, then kill the monster. With only a hint of fear in his voice he growled, "That wasn't a dream, was it, Sandburg."

"No, Si-Captain." Blair answered.

"What did you do to me?" A slight tremor shook Simon, and he tightened his grip on his gun.

Blair peered around his partner, and had his head pushed back for his trouble. "I was afraid you'd frea-overreact, Captain. So I just gave you a suggestion to forget that you'd seen my fangs. That's all, I *swear*."

Simon stared at Jim. "And what did he do to you? Why are you allowing this creature to stay here?"

Jim crossed his arms and returned the stare, analyzing his Captain as if he were a target to be cracked by a covert ops interrogation. After a long minute of uncomfortable silence, he spoke. "You know, Simon, I never took you for the superstitious type."

Simon was stunned. "Jim, have you lost your mind? There's a fanged creature with Sandburg's face sitting behind you!"

"No, Simon. *Blair* is sitting behind me. Don't you think I'd know my guide? Not to mention, my roommate and partner?"

"Jim," Simon struggled to keep his voice low and calm. "What or whoever that is, he has done something to you. Step away from him, *now*."

"Another surprise. I didn't know you're a bigot."

"*What*?!" Simon couldn't control his voice in the face of such a ridiculous accusation.

"Think about it, Captain. You're judging him on the basis of his appearance. You have no evidence that he's guilty of any crime, yet you're holding your gun on him. What would you call that?"

Behind him, Blair wondered if Jim had ever been on a debate team and restrained his urge to applaud. Instead, he settled one hand on the small of Jim's back in a companionable gesture.

Simon tried reasoning with the Sentinel one more time. "Jim, he has fangs."

Jim nodded, "Very observant, Simon."

"He's a vampire."

Jim shrugged, "You said it, we didn't."

"Vampires feed on humans."

With a stern look, Jim replied, "Then he is *not* a vampire. You're making claims, Simon, and you've made no effort to look for evidence. Check my neck, no bite marks. Check the trash, there are no carcasses, it's full of left over vegetables. Check the fridge, there are more vegetables in there. Blair is far less dangerous than people who jump to conclusions."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. "All right, have him step outside and I'll look at your evidence."

Jim shook his head. "Sorry, Simon. He can't go outside, he wasn't lying about his eyes. He can't tolerate full sunlight."

"Then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I guess so."

Blair spoke up. "Do you guys mind if I have a say in this? Simon, while you sit there not-freaking, consider this. If I'm so dangerous, why are you still alive? And if I've got some weird control over Jim, why are we still having this conversation? Warped as it is." He added in annoyance.

As Simon thought, Jim watched him carefully, ready to do whatever it took to protect Blair. Finally, he relaxed fractionally as Simon lowered his gun.

"Ok, maybe I've been hasty. First, tell me what happened."

Blair answered, "I already did, Simon. That's all I know--I woke up in the morgue, alive. Or, not dead, anyway. I got home in the middle of the night, waited for Jim to wake up, and ate some carrots."

"You really eat vegetables, Sandburg?"

"Well, sort of. I kind of dehydrate them, you know? But yeah, I eat plants, *not* people." Blair shuddered at the idea. He noticed Jim's legs start to shake, and rubbed his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"Ok, but how did you end up as--whatever you are?"

"I don't *know*, Simon. We have a theory it might have something to do with my father, but I need more information from Naomi."

"Your *father*?" Simon shook his head, then slowly reholstered his gun. "I guess I believe that you're not in any immediate danger, Jim. But this is really too much for me. Blair, I'm sorry, I don't think I can just relax and chat with you."

As Simon's gun disappeared from sight, Jim lowered his guard and moved to sit next to Blair.

Blair frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that, Captain. I guess I won't be able to ride along with Jim, then?"

Simon snorted, "Is that all you two think about?"

"What, Captain?" Blair asked.

"Protecting each other." With a sigh, Simon stood to leave. "Don't write anything off, yet. I'll think about this over the weekend. Jim, see me in my office Monday morning."

"Yes, Sir."

Simon let himself out of the loft, pulling the door shut behind him.

The End
(c) CatMoran 2000