Archive of Our Own

Author's webpage: http://www.fortunecity.com/lavendar/brett/283

Author's disclaimer: I don't own them. In fact, I'm only writing this so fast so that Rae will let me into the details of Jim and Blair's shindig at the beach :-)

*And then there were three.*

Blair absentmindedly rubbed his left wrist as he ferreted through his cupboards for something edible. So now the Captain was into their little secret.

In a weird sort of way, Blair felt jealous, almost possessive. If anyone knew anything, it was supposed to be him. It was supposed to be a secret between him and his Sentinel.

*My Sentinel?* Blair shook his head and pulled out a packet of two minute noodles. *When the hell did THAT happen? Possessiveness over research subjects? Sure, he's my thesis and ticket to a doctorate, but...* Blair gave the packet of noodles in his hand a vague shake, then tossed it back into the cupboard. He wasn't really that hungry.

*Guess almost getting killed more times than you can count will do that.* Blair laughed half-heartedly and flopped on the couch. Larry sidled over, tail poking through the bars of his cage. The anthropologist stroked the soft tip for a second, working it between his fingers. *I wonder what it must be like for Ellison to feel something this soft. Is it soft? Or is it coarse from where he can feel every hair? Can he pick up if there are any fleas?* He dropped Larry's tail and the ape jerked out of its lulled stupor, chittering slightly.

"Sorry, Larry."

*Fleas. Great, next time I'll be asking him if he can smell the dogshit across the city. Way to keep your subject, Sandburg.* He reached up and fumbled Larry's cage open, the mustard coloured animal leaping gleefully into his arms.

Blair settled himself on the couch again, Larry perched in his lap. Slowly he scratched his fingers across the animal's head, letting the repetitive movements sooth him as well. Crazy day.

Insane

First, he spent half an hour in Ellison's truck convincing himself he *didn't* have to go to the can. He had the feeling that ammonia-scented seat covers wouldn't have gone down too well with the big guy.

Then they asked for the urine sample - Ellison could have told him about that before he'd done the Niagara falls act in the john, but noooo. They would have had their urine sample, damn quick. Hell, with a coffee that size, they could have done laps in it.

Blair shook his head and leaned back against the couch, keeping up the petting of his research subject. Round and around and totally insane. He'd spent ten minutes worrying about pissing in some damn cup while people were dying a few feet away.

And then he'd spent a few hours on the run from some major bad guys and all of a sudden the urine sample hadn't really been that much of a problem. Vending machine, toilet door - the cops had laughed. Blair had even laughed a little with them.

"Hey man, whatever works!"

*Yeah, you try doing it against a shitload of pissed guys with guns, while trying to keep your heart from doing a fandango through your ribcage.*

He wasn't even going to go into the helicopter jag. He hated heights, and the brief glance when he shoved Kincaid through the door had been more than enough to freak him out. And what was with Ellison, handcuffing himself for a one-way dangle through the city?

Blair shivered at the memory. *Hey, I know I said you were driven to protect the tribe, but that was going kinda overboard, man.*

Still, Blair had felt a warm glow spread through him at the sight. Mindblowing - totally - the fact that someone would risk that much for *him.*

With a sigh, Blair put the protesting ape back in its cage, and locked it.

Sleep.

Yeah, sleep sounded good. Catch some Z's and pretend that tomorrow would be more...normal.

*Yeah, like a cop with heightened senses and an attitude the size of Kansas goes as normal*

Stripping off and leaving the clothes bundled on the floor, Blair fell face down on his mattress and closed his eyes.

Three hours later, he finally conceded defeat and rolled over.

He was too wired for sleep.

*Sex.* Blair decided firmly. *Definitely time for sex. Good old bed-thumping, sheet-ripping howling-at-the-moon type stuff.* Something to totally fuck his mind and let him collapse in a haze of satiation. But seeing as the only other living things around were Larry and some kong-sized rats, he'd have to take matters in his own hands, so to speak.

Blair wriggled down a little on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, thinking while his hands mindlessly stirred his groin into action. Who, who, who?

*Rhonda?* He took a brief mental image of the woman. Nice hair, nice big attributes.. he shook his head. Too cheap. He'd only known her for about thirty seconds, and most of that was spent screaming to Kincaid he was a nark.

That new linguistics Fellow at Rainier? *Ahhhhh,* Blair felt some interest from Mr. Happy. Now THAT was definitely something to look into. Think Library. Up on that ladder, skirt riding up a little as she reached for that book...

*Oh yeah.* He was using both hands now, circling and stroking, running up and down the length of his shaft.

And then she turned and gave him that look, just like the one Ellison gave him when...

Blair screamed as he came explosively, the cry echoing across the empty warehouse as he spurted high into the air. A thousand bombs went off in his head, wiping out all rational thought as his hips bucked wildly.

Finally he drifted back into some semblance of rational thought, breath coming in short pants as his heart eased back into its normal cadence.

*Ellison?* Blair puzzled over the thought. *Guy fantasies, sure, but *Ellison?* Mr. Mucho Buffo cop? Eat-the-faeries-and-spit-'em-out Ellison? Since when?* he wiped himself haphazardly down with the edge of the sheet and turned on his side, still turning the thought over in his mind.

*Ellison?*

End