His Master's Voice, Part 3

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 guide and his fangs.

Warning: Not beta'd. A little angst over events that have already taken place.

Note: Blair wanted me to let you all know that these stories begin sometime during the 3rd season.

His Master's Voice 3
By CatMoran
*****

"So, Jim, you haven't told me what happened yet."

Jim kept his attention on the sleeping bags and camping mats they were setting up in the closet of Blair's room. "What about 'what happened', Chief?"

"Jim, I *died*, man. I don't remember anything about it, and I'm feeling just a little bit curious, you know?" Blair checked the battery level on his laptop and placed it just inside the door.

"Your laptop, Sandburg?" Jim quirked an eyebrow at his friend.

"Hey, I don't know if I'll sleep all day or what. If I don't, I don't want to get bored. I figure I can make some notes, try to figure out what we need to test. Now, stop avoiding the subject, it's going to be light soon."

Jim sat back on his heels and sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Same as I told you before. I was riding with you in the truck."

Jim looked at his friend with mild annoyance. "Right, but do you know what day it was? Where we were going? I'm wondering how much I need to fill in, here."

"Oh! Right. Um, it was Tuesday; we'd just gotten out of a meeting with Simon about the McPherson paperwork. I don't remember where we were going, though..." Blair's voice trailed off and he frowned in concentration.

"Don't sprain your brain, Chief. That was yesterday morning. We were heading to Nicky's to get some meatball subs. It was raining-"

"When is it *not* raining, Jim?"

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Jim leveled a glare at his friend.

Blair smirked. "Sorry."

"Anyway, it was raining and the best parking spot I could get was down by the flower shop, so you stayed in the truck while I went to get the food." Jim's voice grew strained as he remembered. "I was coming back with the food, still about a half block away, when an SUV went through the intersection too fast. It looked like he was trying to make a right, but he lost control," Jim paused to clear the tightness forming in his throat. "And plowed head-on into the truck."

Blair looked stricken. "Aw, Jim, your truck! That was a classic! And your insurance is gonna go through the roof."

"Forget my truck, Sandburg! The maniac was drunk, and he killed you! You must have had your seatbelt off, you were a mess..." Jim's face became an emotionless mask as his voice trailed off.

"Jim?" Blair reached out and touched the other man's face. "Jim, look at me. I'm still here. However it happened, I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Jim began to shake and leaned into the touch. Blair moved closer and pulled his friend into a hug. "It's ok, man. It's ok. I'm sorry I had to bring it up, but I need to know, you know?"

Jim pushed aside the slight unease he felt at the absolute silence and slightly cool temperature of his friend's body. He relaxed into the embrace and allowed his guide's voice to calm him. After a minute he pulled back with a slight shudder for the loss of the contact.

"We'd better wrap this up, I can see the sky is starting to get lighter." Jim fell silent for a moment as he finished composing himself. "You probably died on impact. We did CPR, but your heart never started again."

"What about the other driver?" Blair asked gently.

"He walked away. Airbags. It probably didn't hurt that he had a blood alcohol level of .28" Jim added bitterly.

"Jim, let it go. I'm here now."

"But that reckless idiot *killed* you! And I might still lose you! All it takes is for one careless cleaning lady to open this closet-"

"Jim, you don't *have* a cleaning lady." Blair interrupted in a reasonable tone of voice.

"That's not the point, Sandburg!"

"Then what is the point, Jim?"

"We don't know why you're still here. You might be... gone again before I get home."

"Jim, I'll be here when you get home. I promise I'm not opening this door until you tell me the sun's gone down. Speaking of which..."

"Right. Have you got everything you need?" Jim looked around the closet one last time, as Blair crawled into the nest they'd created from camping supplies.

"Everything but an owner's manual for the undead, man." Blair grinned.

Jim grimaced. "Funny, Chief. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes you will, Jim." Blair smiled as he pulled the door closed, ready to start his first day as a vampire.

The End
(c) CatMoran 2000