Title: Crones

Author: The Rentgirls

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Jim/Blair

Status: Complete

Archive: Yes, and feel free to forward it

Disclaimer: Jim and Blair are creations of Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo and belongs to Paramount Pictures, Pet Fly Productions & UPN, but the Rentgirls would love to show them a good time. (Jim and Blair, not Danny and Paul, eww)

Warnings: NC-17 due to implied Slash, bad language, metadiscussion (i.e. discussion of the value of discussion), and blatant use of Blair-y Sue

Crones (A Sentinel Fable)
By The Rentgirls

"Where are we, Sandburg?" Jim asked, looking down the almost familiar hallway.

"Shhh," Blair put his index finger to Jim's lips. Jim sucked the finger in and gave it a gentle nip. "Would you cut that out, man?" Blair hissed. "We've got a job to do."

Jim sighed. This wasn't exactly how he had wanted to spend one of their rare free afternoons together but Blair had insisted and, well, he was nuts about the kid. It was difficult for Jim to say no to the most important person in his life. When Blair jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn this morning, urging Jim to get dressed rather than engage in some mutual dick sucking, Jim had pulled on some jeans and followed his lover out of the loft.

Ellison leaned against the wall as Blair crept carefully down the hall, listening at each door. Blair looked up, saw Jim lounging and stalked back to him. "You know, oh Sentinel, He of the Gifted Senses, you're the one who should be listening for them, not me." Hands moving, hair bobbing, Blair looked angry and adorable.

Jim couldn't resist. He grabbed the smaller man and kissed him hard. Blair allowed the kiss, heck, even returned it for a moment then pushed Jim away.

"Jesus, Jim, will you please try to stay on task here?"

"Well, Sandburg, I would if I had an inkling of what the task was."

"Inkling?" Blair smiled up at him. "Why Detective Ellison, I didn't have an inkling that you even knew the word inkling."

"You know, Sandburg, I'm only the big, ignorant caveman in some of the stories."

Blair pressed up against Jim, winking seductively. "I know and I happen to love those stories. Ugh, you big primitive caveman. Me brainy anthropologist. The sex is always so good in those." He nibbled at Jim's ear, causing the older man to moan is response.

"Oh," Jim said, "this is one of those slutty-top-Blair and clueless-but-soon-to-be-a-bottom-boy-Jim stories, isn't it?"

Blair sighed and released Jim's ear. "Don't I wish. Man, I love those stories."

"Mmm. Me, too. The sex is always so good in those stories."

With a regretful shake of his head, Blair told Jim, "Well, partner, this isn't one of those stories."

"Is it one of those angsty ones? You remember, we're apart, we're heartbroken but in the end, we get together, realizing that we're meant for each other."

"You big, romantic wuss," Blair said affectionately. "We are meant for each other but, no, it's not that kind of story either."

"Is it a Jungle Jim/Virgin Blair story? Those are so much fun." Jim licked his lips. "The sex is so good in those."

"Sorry, Jim, it's not one of those either. Nor is it one of the episode based stories where the writer gives a twist to what everyone saw on the screen."

"Too bad. Those kind of stories are great."

"Yeah, they are. They're usually better than the actual episode."

A burst of laughter escaped Jim. Blair shushed him again. "Sorry," Jim said in a quieter voice, "but let's be honest here, our show wasn't exactly the best television ever written."

"True, but people loved it. The explosions, the car chases, the fights..."

"The gorgeous guys and their evolving relationship..."

Blair gave Jim a quick kiss. "You're crazy, Ellison. You know that?"

"About you."

"Yeah and I love you, too, but we've got something to do here."

"Is it a teddy bear story?"

"No, Jim."

"A crime story? A mystery? A BDSM one?"

"No, no, and no, Jim."

"One of those cool AU's? I love the ones set in the future. Or the past. Or a sappy holiday one? How about the animal guide ones? Or the fairy tales? Or the hooker ones? Or the underage Blair ones?" He gave Blair a mocking leer.

Blair playfully slapped Jim's shoulder. "You are such a pig, man."

"But I'm your pig."

"Yeah, Jim, you are."

"I mean, usually I am. Sometimes I'm Simon's pig or Rafe's pig or..."

"Okay, shut up. Those are not my favorite stories."

"Jealous, Chief?"

"You bet your ass I am. I suppose you're okay with the ones that have me paired with Simon or Rafe or some girl or even a little cross over lovemaking with Duncan or Methos or Mulder or..."

"Fuck yes, I get jealous. Of course, if the sex is really good, I get over it pretty quickly."

Blair embraced Jim. "Don't worry. No matter who or what or how many they stick us with, at the end of the day, you and I know we belong to each other. Forever."

"Aw, Sandburg, you big, romantic wuss. You're just a one true pairing kind of guy at heart."

Blair rubbed his head lovingly across Jim's cheek. "I really am, you know."

Jim grasped a handful of Blair's shiny curls and raised it to his lips. "I know you are, Blair. So am I." Jim wondered how many lifetimes it would take before those big blue eyes would stop making his heart race. "So, Chief, why are we here?"

"Look at this," Blair said, holding out his left hand. Jim realized that he could actually see through Blair's hand.

"Christ, is this some new Sentinel thing?"

"No, Jim, it a Crone thing?"

"A Crone?"

"Yeah, see there are these Crones, big, scary, evil Crones that are trying to tear apart the fandom. And if they do, well, we disappear."

"What?" Jim was both furious and bewildered. "How are they doing it?"

"They've decided that they are the end all and be all and know all of Sentinel fiction. They take whatever fiction comes down the pike and shred it. We're talking thrash, trash and bash."

"Why?"

"Who can guess? Maybe it makes the Crones feel superior to everyone else in the fandom. They think they are the 'Keepers of the Fan Fic' and take a malicious kind of joy in tearing writers apart."

"I'll be damned."

"If they keep it up, maybe we will both be damned. The Crones are even rude enough to have said that any writer that appears in certain archives should never be read. Even set up a DNR list."

"Do not resuscitate?"

"Nope, do not read. Then, they were nasty enough to post it on list."

"Jesus, that's just cruel."

"Really, it is. Now, I'm not saying that their criticisms aren't warranted or valid. I'm only saying they're destructive instead of constructive. Some writers are tough enough to ignore the Crones, some aren't."

Not wanting to know, but unable to stop himself from asking, Jim said, "And the ones who aren't?"

"They just don't share anymore, Jim, and here's more. Duncan, Methos, Mulder, Skinner, Jack, Daniel and most of the others tell me there are Crones in their fandoms, too."

"I suppose that's to be expected, Chief."

"I suppose but the strange thing is many of the Crones are spiteful little bitches in more than one fandom. They must not have real lives."

"Wow."

"The thing is almost every story, no matter how silly or wonderful, beautifully written or poorly executed, pushes someone's buttons. These Crones proudly display the blue ribbon for no censorship from the government on their websites, yet they attempt to censor other writers themselves."

"If they hate a story, why don't they just hit the delete button or the back button? It's not like they have to read it." Jim asked.

Blair cupped his hand over Jim's mouth and shook his head. "Don't say that, man. I mean, I know that's a reasonable solution but those words, 'just hit the delete button' can send them into the Crones' version of a feeding frenzy. Logic and fair play have no place in the Crones' universe."

"Ah," Jim said and licked Blair's palm.

"And," Blair said "No one, not even the Crones own us."

"Well, no one except Pet Fly and Paramount and Danny and Paul and. . . "

"I meant, no one here on the internet owns us, including the Crones."

"So, Chief, why are we here?"

"I want to confront the Crones."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Chief?"

"It's the only way. I've got to see them and tell them to cut it out."

"Okay, let's go." Jim led Blair down the hallway, halting at the last door. "This has to be it." Jim said. "I can hear them alternately blasting the last five stories that came off SXF and whining that there is no good fanfic anymore."

"That's them," Blair said and flung open the door. He'd been prepared to storm in but what he saw froze him in his tracks. "Oh. My. God."

Before them, in a darkened room were a half a dozen heavy set women, each about 40 years old, perched in front of computers. Cats, hundreds of cats, of every description were draped around the room. The air reeked of chocolate, Diet Coke and intact hymens.

"Oh my god," Jim echoed.

The two of them backed out of the room unnoticed, quietly closing the door behind them. Blair jogged back down the hallway, almost making it to the elevator before he burst into laughter.

Blair slid down the wall, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. "Ga ga ga," he managed to snort out.

"What did you say, Chief?"

"Ga ga ga." Blair laughed harder, holding his ribs, gasping for breath. When he had calmed a bit, he held out his hand to Jim. The older man examined it carefully. No longer transparent, it was once again the firm, warm square hand that had made love to him thousands of times in thousands of ways.

"We're okay then, Sandburg? Everyone is safe?"

Blair wiped the tears from his face with the hem of his flannel shirt. "Oh yeah. We're all okay, Jim. You, me, Simon, Rafe, Brown, Joel, Megan and whoever else the writers throw into the mix."

As they left the building, Blair started to laugh again.

"What is it, Chief?"

"Did you see them, Jim? The big, scary Crones of fandom? The horrid, snarky shrews that think they own the internet and all its archives?"

"I saw them."

"They're just a bunch of gallbladder gals."

"Gallbladder gals?"

"You know, females who are fair, fat and forty."

"Cute, Sandburg. You're right though. They looked like they could stand to spend a little less time in front of the computer snacking and hacking and a little more time out in the fresh air getting a real life."

"True. It's strange. I thought they would be frightening but they're just kind of, well, sad."

"Put it all out of your mind, Chief. We're still got a whole afternoon free before the next story comes out."

"Okay, let's head for the loft. I am ready to spend some naked quality time with you, Jim."

"Finally, we get to the good sex part of the story."

"Sorry, buddy, but in this story we just fade to black."

"Jesus, I hate those stories, Sandburg."

"I know you do, Jim. We'll just have to hope the next story will be chocked full of sex."

"You really are a big, romantic wuss, Blair." Jim kissed Blair's sweet mouth. "Let's go home."


Fin

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