by Carol Roi
"Um, yeah, Dee. He was here about an hour ago, all packed for an overnight trip with Lee Eolia in tow. Why? What's happened?"
"Brad Ventriss," Blair broke in before Dee could speak. "That theory we had. It's not a theory anymore."
"Are you sure?" Megan rose from her seat, picking up on her friends' agitation.
"I'm sure," Dee hissed in a low whisper. "Six bullets in me sure. He's immortal, and he doesn't play by the rules."
"Dee! Oh my god!" From the look on Blair's face, Megan could see just how close she had come to losing her champion. She reached out to the older woman, for the first time since she had learned of Dee's immortality realizing there was a real possibility of Diandra being killed. She felt Dee pulling her into a tight hug, whispering reassurances.
"I'm okay, Pajara, truly. I'm just mad at Ventriss and Ellison and Eolia."
Megan stepped back to arms length. "Jim and Eolia? Why?"
"Dee was attacked outside the loft. She managed to climb up the fire escape and crash through the window into my room, then left a trail of blood across the hall to her place. There's no way Jim didn't notice it when he came home. And Eolia was there when it happened. I don't think she told Jim the truth, and she's been lying all along." Blair would have continued, but Simon walked into the bullpen at that moment.
Disentangling herself from Megan's grasp, Dee planted her self in the tall man's path. "Banks! Where is Ellison?"
Simon's expression turned wary, and he seemed little stunned at the Champion's commanding demeanor. "Detective Ellison is at a safe house. In order to keep him and Ms. Eolia safe, he asked that I not divulge the whereabouts to anyone. That includes you, Blair," he said, peering around Dee's imposing form at the anthropologist.
"Simon!" Blair cried.
"That does it. My office, all of you. You too, Connor." Once inside the office, Simon closed the door and pulled the blinds. "Now, are you questioning my authority in this?"
"No--" Megan began, just as both Dee and Blair said, "Yes!"
"Simon, how much did Jim tell you about what is going on?" Blair asked.
Pulling a cigar out his pocket, the captain prepared to light it.
"I really wouldn't do that, if I were you," Dee said icily.
Simon looked from Megan to Blair. "Sandburg, Connor, can't you keep your Sentinels under control?" All three of them glared at him. He put the cigar away. "Fine. All Jim told me was your lofts had been broken into, presumably by the person who is after Ms. Eolia. They were no longer a safe place for her to stay. He asked for the use of a safe house and a car from the motor pool. I gave them to him, along with the promise to keep his location secret. You have a problem with that?"
Megan watched an entire conversation play out between Dee and Blair with just a glance. Finally, Diandra said, "We just want to make sure that all precautions have been taken, since you sent Jim to gods know where without his Guide."
"Yeah, Simon. What if he zones? And what if they were followed? That's how the killer found the loft; he followed one of us there."
Banks leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well sure they were followed, Sandburg! I had an unmarked unit make sure they got to their location and that unit will be relieved of "watchdog" duties about four am. You think I'd let Jim go off totally on his own?"
"Well, we know how stubborn Jim can be, sir," Megan answered.
"And we weren't sure how much he told you about what's been going on," Blair said.
Simon gazed long and hard at each of them. "What is it the three of you aren't telling me? Is it more Sentinel/Guide mumbo-jumbo?"
"Yes," Dee replied quickly. "We were worried about Jim being all alone somewhere without a guide. However, you've reassured us he has the protection of the PD, and Ms. Eolia is a security expert. I suppose he's safe enough." She headed toward the door, looking back over her shoulder at Megan and Blair. "You two coming?"
"Sure, Dee." Blair followed his lover out the door, but Megan hesitated before leaving her superior's office. "May I go home, sir? Things have quieted down quite a bit, and I'm going to have to put those two up for the night."
Pulling his cigar from his pocket again, Simon waved it at her. "Go, go! And I don't envy you the rest of the night. Thank god they didn't ask to stay with me."
Crossing the bullpen to her desk, Megan gathered up her things. "Come on, let's go. I think you both have a lot of explaining to do." Once again the guide and champion exchanged cryptic looks. "And none of that telepathy stuff! If you're going to kick me out of my bed, I deserve to know what's going on."
Blair nodded, but he didn't look happy about it. Sighing, he said, "You'll get your explanation, but let's get out of here first." The trio left Major Crimes and headed for the elevator.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By mutual consent, we don't stay on the couch for very long. And I'm not sure exactly how it happens, but I end up on the large bed in the room I didn't choose, wearing far less than I was. So is Jim. Oh Great Gods above! The man is gorgeous! From the top of his military haircut all the way down to his toes. And everything in between! I think if the Gods I knew were to look upon this mortal before me, even Adonis and Apollo could find themselves in the grip of envy.
His hands are very expressive, tantalizing and very subtle. Feather light touches become passion inspired hardness. And his mouth! Eros! I reach out to him, pulling him from the attention he's paying to my abdomen, bringing him higher up on my body. Every cell is practically singing for release.
"Jim, please& " I'm begging, I know not what for, hoping that he understands.
"Lee, let me do this." Do what? Oh! I didn't believe it possible, but I'm melting even further as his mouth closes over mine. His wonderful hands work their own brand of magic as they soothe my quivering stomach. Then his mouth is gone, trailing a path of fire and moist heat from my chin to my shoulder, then down to my breast. He stops there for a moment, paying lavish attention to one nipple, before making sure its twin is not lonely for his touch very long, then the heat is moving further 'south'.
I'm lost, well and truly lost. And if I don't get him right where I want him, I'm going to scream. I rise up on the bed, and he moves with me, making sure not to pin me down. "My turn, babe." His blue eyes lock with mine and I can see the concern in their depths. "Please, let me make you feel good."
With gentle hands of my own, I direct him to lie back on the bed and I straddle his hips. I position my center over his groin, not allowing him in yet, and I start my own teasing. First, I knead the muscles of his chest, getting the reaction I desire as his nipples start to harden under my fingertips. I lean over him, placing kisses on those nipples. I work my way up, stopping only to barely nip at his shoulder, then I capture his delectable mouth in mine. Even as we deepen the contact between us, I feel, more than hear, the almost cat-like purr he's making. And the part of him that is responding to me, jumping and twitching against my core, tells me it's time.
"Jim& now& before I lose it completely& "
"Yes& " That was a growl, a purring growl, which changes to a gasp as I slowly lower myself onto him. Yes, the attributes of his ancestor, if Ellison is indeed descended of Laird William McAlasdair, have been fully passed down through the generations. I can no longer hold back my own desire, and I start to move in a rhythm that is older than civilization. I use my hands to guide his fingers, caressing my body then his, as the beat of the dance starts to increase in tempo.
Lost in the throes of passion, my head snaps back and forth on my neck, my long hair flying everywhere. Conscious movement becomes a thing of the past, beyond my control, and the pressure building up in my womb is intense. I'm barely aware of who my partner is, my mind filling my head with images of lovers and husbands of the past. Then I open my eyes.
Our hands clasped tightly together, we both fight for control over our bodies. The noises coming from my throat are very basic, not
words, not exactly purring, nor simple grunts either, but something much more. I barely manage to still my movements for a second, looking deep into the eyes of my lover -- eyes that once were a light blue, now darkened in passion to a color to rival the depth of the oceans.
"Oh, god, don't stop, Lee. Not now!" I wriggle, feeling his shaft fill up my core with its hard length. Then I'm lost again, that slight move was the wrong thing to do, for the pace that my body is requiring is harder, faster than it had been.
"Now. Oh, Goddess! Jim! Please! Now!"
The engulfing madness sends me into a tailspin, spiraling me into the near death of an orgasm so complete I nearly lose consciousness. Collapsing against his sweat-covered body, I can hear his heart thundering in his chest under my ear.
Unlocking her apartment, Megan swung the door wide, letting her companions enter first, watching Blair and Dee as they passed by her. They were still touching, his hand going to the small of her back to guide her in front of him. As far as she could tell, they hadn't lost contact with each other from the moment they had left the police station. In a way, it was kind of sweet, if you didn't know it was an unconscious response to what they had gone through that afternoon. When she put their gestures in that light, it was heartbreaking. Both of them were trying to hide it, but underneath the frustration and the anger, they were scared. And so was she.
"Just plop yourselves down anywhere," she said as she took their coats and hung them in the front closet. "Give me a minute or two to straighten up in the back, and then you can stow your gear. Sorry, I don't have much to offer in the way of food. I'm trying to clean out my fridge for the move up to Seacouver. Phone's in the kitchen, and there's a delivery menu on the fridge for the Chinese place down the block." She moved down the hallway to the bedroom, wondering if she had enough pillows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blair dropped onto the sofa cushion next to Dee after calling in the food order. He couldn't remember now what he had selected from the menu. They would probably end up with nothing but rice and egg rolls. Pulling the hair tie out of his ponytail, he leaned his head against the back of the couch, running his fingers roughly through his curls.
He glanced over at her. Her head rested against the sofa in almost the exact same position as his, her eyes closed, her face worn and tired. Not opening her eyes, she scooted closer to him, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. Several long seconds passed, then she said, "Ow."
"You okay?" he asked, concerned.
She wiggled around in her seat, her hand snaking behind her back. "Yeah, damn thing's poking me in the ribs."
Blair frowned, puzzled. "What thing?"
Dee's arm reappeared, and Blair's eyes widened at what she held in her hand. "This. I forgot how much I hate wearing a gun."
"That's not a gun, Dee, that's a cannon." He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. He hadn't even known she'd owned one.
Leaning forward, the Immortal laid the automatic in its belt holster on the coffee table. "The bigger the hole you put in an Immortal, the longer they stay down. I don't like carrying it, but right now I don't feel I have much choice. I have you and Megan and myself to think about. I'm going to take any damn advantage I can. And when I find Bradley Ventriss, I'm going to take his head."
Blair felt a shiver run through him at her words. This was the side of his lover that frightened him, the millennia-old Amazon warrior. He couldn't deny that that facet of her personality had come in handy; it had saved all of them from Cristo a little over a month ago. But to see that look in her eye& cold, relentless, deadly. He'd seen the same expression on Jim a few times, and felt the same thing in the pit of his stomach--dread. Part of him wondered if it was the sentinel part of them providing that ability to shut everything off to the exclusion of the mission, or if it was their military training. Or maybe it was just their fiercely protective instincts. Feeling the light pressure of her hand on his arm, Blair looked over at her.
"Sorry, baby, I don't mean to scare you. I just& " She shrugged. "I can't bear the thought of harm coming to you or Jim or Megan. I don't know what I would do without you."
The image of her torn and bleeding body breathing its last in his arms washed over Blair. He'd felt that pain this afternoon, if only for a moment. He didn't ever want to put her through that. Pulling her into a hug, Blair held on tightly, feeling the hot sting of tears against his closed eyelids.
"Okay, bedroom's all set..." Megan's voice trailed off as she caught sight of them. "Whoops, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
Pulling away from Blair, Dee shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "No, Pajara, you weren't. We're fine."
Megan walked the rest of the way into the living room and dropped into the chair opposite the couch. "No you're not, and I don't blame you. I'm jumping at shadows, and I only have your vague account of what happened to go on." She caught sight of the gun on the table. "Bloody hell! Since when did you start carrying a gun?" She picked it up, making sure the safety was engaged before removing it from the holster. "Desert Eagle, right? 50 millimeter rounds? Makes a frigging big hole, Dee."
Blair heard Dee sigh as she replied, "Before tonight, the last time I carried a gun full time was World War II."
"But I thought Immortals were forbidden to use firearms."
"Only when they're used to give us an advantage in the Game. I wouldn't be carrying one now, but& Fight fire with fire, as the saying goes." She was interrupted by a knock at the door. Blair turned his gaze on her, as did Megan. Dee laughed lightly. "It's okay. It's the food. I can smell it from here. What in the world did you order, Lobo?"
Shrugging, Blair gave her a sheepish grin and went to answer the door.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I awaken a short while later to movement against my thigh. Lifting my head, I see that Jim's not really awake, but a certain part of him certainly is. I feel the smile gracing my face grow wicked as it seeks to match the thoughts in my head. I move slowly, not wanting my prey to wake before I 'm ready for him to. With a little pain, I'm settling back onto the shaft, using the muscles in my body to gently squeeze. Tighten, relax, tighten, tighten further, relax. Over and over, until he's awake.
"Insatiable aren't you?" His eyes snap open and lock with mine, just as his shaft bucks up inside of my channel.
Feeling my juices starting to flow, I tighten as hard as I can against the muscle inside of me. Jim's gasp of pleasure/pain is the only response I get. "Very insatiable, Jim. I want you, and I always get my man."
Before I know what has happened, I'm on my back, looking up into his face. "Well, I hope you don't mind, but the way you woke me put ideas into my head." He's lifting my legs, draping them over his shoulders without ever losing our intimate contact, and then he's thrusting deeper than I thought imaginable into me.
"Gods! Jim! Don't stop!" I can almost touch his hips with my hands, but fall just short. Frustrated beyond belief, I grasp the part of him that I can reach, rolling the sacs between my fingers, stroking along the shaft when he pulls back, only to slam back inside me.
"This is going to be close, Lee." I glance up at his face, contorted with the effort to hold back. Smiling I take my hand and grab his right one, guiding it to caress the part of me that is begging for attention.
"Touch me, Jim." And then he's using his callused thumb to stroke my passionate fire into a higher temperature zone. I'm burning, filled with a fire so deep I know I could die from the excitement. The scream ripped from my throat is matched by the growling groan from him as we both manage to climax at the same time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Megan and Dee were putting up the remains of dinner in the kitchen, debating over whether or not it would get eaten over the holidays, and was it worth dirtying Tupperware to keep something in the fridge for a week and then throw it out. Blair smiled
to himself as he flipped open his cell phone. If they weren't careful, they'd end up in the land of color-coded leftovers. The phone chirped and the voicemail symbol appeared on the screen. Maybe there was a message from Jim. Accessing his mail, he listened to the short message. "Damn it," he hissed under his breath.
Dee glanced over her shoulder at him. "What is it, Lobo?"
"Finally a message from Jim. And in it he says exactly nothing. Says Ms. Eolia gave him the story. I'll fucking story her--"
"Sandy!"
Blair had the good grace to blush. "Sorry, Megan. I just feel so damn helpless. Jim's off god knows where, doing god knows what, while Eolia tells him goddamn lies. This is all my fault."
