The B'Lair Chronicles:
Discovery
written by NemKess
warnings: AU, Xover, mild language, possible OOCness
The police station was as busy as ever when Detective Blair Sandburg pushed his way through the loiterers gathered around the elevator. Once he'd made it in, he pushed the seven and leaned against one wall, his mind drifting.
It seemed impossible that only a year had passed since he'd stood before a live audience of goddess only knew how many people and declared himself a fraud. The thought still made him flinch a little on the inside, though he'd managed to control his outer responses once he'd realized that it was upsetting for Jim to see.
A snort escaped at the thought. When in the hell had the opinions of one Jim Ellison- detective, sentinel, and friend- come to mean so much to him? It wasn't as if Jim was his only friend, or even the only sentinel he'd ever known, though Blair would never admit it to the bigger man. Even Naomi had commented on it. He smiled at the understatement. She'd been livid once she'd realized he planned on going through with the press conference. He could still remember her voice, harsh as he'd ever heard it. She'd admitted to sending his dissertation to Sid just to push a wedge between him and Jim. Sighing, he rubbed his neck at the thought of how much damage the woman had done and how long it had taken to repair it.
The elevator opened to his floor and he slid past the crush that was getting on. The familiar doors to Major Crimes caused both comfort and amusement to war with each other in his head. Who would have guessed that he would ever end up a cop?
His older friends were probably very amused at the irony. He knew at least one of them was. A frown settled on the usually cheerful face as Blair remembered the phone call he'd gotten a few days ago. A friend he hadn't seen in ages, had called him up out of the blue saying she was going to be in Cascade soon and needed a favor. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine what she could want. Leandra wasn't even really his friend, more of a friend of a friend.
"Hey, Hairboy! 'Bout time you got here," he looked up to see Henri Brown, H to his friends, holding a phone to his shoulder. "This lady's been calling and asking for you every thirty minutes or so."
"Who is it?" he asked, walking over to take the phone.
"Won't say. Say's she'll only talk to you."
Blair shrugged and got on the line, curious. "Hello? This is Detective Sandburg speaking."
"B'Lair, mon chère. I suggest you get down to the waterfront. I have your nice detective friend and he's not very happy right now." A chill swept through him. The only people who would use Jim against him and call him B'Lair were bad news for his friend.
"Who is this?" he asked, trying to keep his anxiety out of his voice. The last thing he needed was one of the other detectives trying to follow him. The fewer people involved the better.
"You'll see when you get here."
He dropped the phone back on it's jack as soon as the dial tone registered. Oh, man, Jim... This is not how I pictured you finding out about my past.
Although, come to think of it, he'd never intended Jim to find out at all.
"Well, what did she want?" Blair came back to himself at H's question.
"An old friend, Leandra's coming in a few days and just wanted to check and make sure I remembered." He winced. That sounded lame even to him, but hopefully his friend wouldn't push the issue.
"You're sure?" Though skeptical, it looked like the larger detective was going to let it slide.
"Yeah. Hey, listen. I just remembered that I promised Jim I'd meet him.... somewhere, and I'm already running late, okay, man? So, I'll catch ya later!" The last was tossed back over his shoulder as he hurried away.
~*~*~
The waterfront wasn't exactly a precise address, but he figured the enemy would want a place far enough from the crowds that they didn't draw any undue attention. He parked among a long row of abandoned warehouses and took a moment to collect himself before reaching under the seat of his Volvo and pulling out a 3 ft Grose Messer sword.
Solemn eyes studied the weapon.
How long had it been since he'd been forced to use it? With a grimace, he realized that he hadn't done more than hold the sword since he'd taken on the name and life of Blair Sandburg, student of humankind.
Which meant that he was a hell of a lot rustier than he cared to admit. He could only hope he hadn't lost any of his former skill.
Tilting his head, he glanced down the row of quiet warehouses and started off in the direction with the least activity. All too soon, the familiar tingle swept up his spine before it came to a rest, niggling in his skull.
The confirmation that the enemy was a fellow immortal was both disturbing and comforting. The idea that one of his mortal enemies had found out about his past wasn't something he wanted to think about. On the other hand, many immortals thought of mortals as insignificant and wouldn't hesitate to kill Jim if his friend put up too much of a fight or if -and Blair really didn't want to think about this one- if he lost the challenge.
He entered the building with his sword up and his ears alert, wishing as he often did, that he could trade his immortality for sentinel senses. He could sense the other immortal, but he couldn't sense Jim. Was he still alive? Was he even really a prisoner?
Questions that would have been easy for a sentinel, left him vulnerable.
Blair snorted at that. He hadn't allowed a mortal close to him in over 300 years. Alistair had been his best friend and a sentinel as well. For over ten years they'd shared the life of blood brothers until the day that the young Scot had seen him die on a sword blade only to revive before he could be laid to rest. After which he'd been beaten and tossed from the high cliffs overlooking Lock Ness. It had been a valuable, if overly harsh lesson and one he'd not forgotten until he'd looked up one day to see a reluctant Jim Ellison entering his office for the first time.
It looked like history was about to repeat itself.
How many times do I need to be thrown off a cliff before I stop putting myself in this position?
Shaking off the depressing though, he reached down inside, past Blair Sandburg, to B'Lair of Seville. He stuffed down the peace-loving gentleness and called back the man he'd been before, the one who embraced the violence of a barbarian and the thrill of a challenge.
He wondered briefly if he'd ever be able to put B'Lair completely back in the box, but decided it didn't matter. Fear-based responses would undoubtedly see him thrown out of this newest life.
Well, Sandburg, he thought, it's been nice being you.
Squaring his shoulders, he opened the door.
~*~*~
Detective Jim Ellison glared at the madwoman who paced in front of him, just out of the reach of his chained form. Though definitely insane, stupid she wasn't.
What really annoyed him was that he had absolutely no idea what was going on.
The lunatic kept raving about being burnt at the stake and having to kill her best friend and how it was all Blair's fault.
She stopped suddenly and grinned at him. "Well, it looks like dear B'Lair has finally arrived.
Cocking his head to one side, he realized that the familiar heartbeat of his friend was just outside the building. He wondered how she'd known Blair was there. Though the woman had a crazy light in her eyes reminiscent of Alex Barnes, she definitely wasn't a sentinel.
He was jolted from the thought as his guide slipped in and moved towards them. Sapphire eyes met his in silent question and he nodded faintly in answer. He was fine, just damned curious and more than a little uncomfortable. The woman had handcuffed him with his arms around one of the roof supports, and his head ached something fierce from where she'd knocked him unconscious with the hilt of her rapier.
"I'm here. Now let Jim go. He has nothing to do with this." The tone of Blair's voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Where was his gentle shaman? There was no evidence of that man in the stranger that had come to stand a dozen feet or so away.
"No, B'Lair mon chère. I think he should watch, that way, even if Lucifer helps to grant you victory, he will see you for the monster that you really are." Blair simply stood there and the bored expression on his face seemed to enrage her. "Don't you even recognize me?!"
"Should I?"
Her mouth gaped unattractively for a moment in shock. Apparently she hadn't been expecting that reply. "Do you destroy so many lives you can't separate them anymore? You left us to be burned." There was no change in expression, but Jim could hear his guide's heartbeat fluctuate as that hit home. "I am Solange Baptiste of Bordeaux."
Blair's brows were furrowed as he searched his memory for the dark haired beauty. Jim could see the exact moment recognition hit him. "Solange! But.. we were friends. I haven't seen you since Boston, with Madeline. Around 1700."
Her lip curled in a near snarl. "1693, to be exact. The villagers were still frightened from the Trials the year before. You were seen B'Lair, as you left town, you were seen."
He was surprised to see the other man blanche as if that actually made sense.
"Oh Goddess."
Solange nodded in savage satisfaction. "Guilt by association. Since you were obviously a demon, then we were obviously witches. They burned us. And when we came back, they burned us again, and again. Until they decided the only way to kill the evil in their midst was to carry us out to see and 'bless' us. Madeline was little more than a gibbering child by then. Taking her head was merciful."
"I didn't know, Solange. I wouldn't have left the pair of you if I had known."
"But you did leave, B'Lair. And you were seen. And we did suffer. Now it's your turn to die." The last was followed by a quick flurry of swordplay as she lunged at her opponent. Jim could only shake his head vaguely aware that he was in shock as Blair quickly pulled up his own sword to parry.
And for a guy who wouldn't touch guns, Blair Sandburg was pretty damn handy with a sword. Jim watched the pair. It reminded him of a carefully choreographed ballet with weapons and a beauty all it's own. But the smell of blood tugged at his attention, both his guide's and the woman's. Sentinel sight located the deep abdominal wound on Blair and an equally bad one on Solange's shoulder.
Deadly intent and concentration filled both their faces and it was with dawning horror that he realized that nuts or not, this was a battle to the death. Perhaps even for them both at the rate they were losing blood.
There was a sharp gasp and Solange fell to her knees, her hands frantically trying to keep her entrails inside her body. She looked up at Blair, hate and resignation in her eyes before bowing her head in defeat.
To Jim's surprise, Blair didn't back away, didn't come check on him. Instead, he raised the sword above his head.
"There can be only one." And with a swift downward stroke, the loser's head rolled. Blair stood still for a moment before dropping to his own knees and looking up at his mortal friend. "Better dial it down, man. This will be pretty intense."
Instinct to obey his guide was the only thing that kept him from overloading when the first tendrils of electricity slithered their way out of the corpse and over to the other man. He was in too much shock to do it consciously.
From where he watched, sentinel senses all dialed down below normal, it looked very much like Blair was being fried alive. It seemed like an eternity before the light and smoke show quit, but he knew that in reality it had only been less than a minute. When it was over, his friend keeled over, his heart stuttering to a complete stop.
"Mmmeph?" He tried to call through the gag he was wearing, tried to wrench his hands out of the cuffs, but in the end it wasn't enough and he was forced to sit there, listening to his guide's bodily functions stop, feeling that body cool, smelling the blood as it pooled and tasting it on the air. His eyes strained fro any sign that this wasn't the end for the single most important person in his life.
He strained his sight until it was too much and for the first time in months, he zoned.
~*~*~
"Jim, c'mon buddy. Follow my voice and come back. I know that was a shock to your system, but it's over now and I need to come back. C'mon Jim. Man-"
It wasn't even the voice that roused him. It was the heartbeat. The heartbeat he'd thought stopped forever, beating again and right next to his ear. "Chief?"
His vision began to come back down to normal and he could make out the blurry form of his guide.
"Yeah, Jim. It's me. Look, I'll tell you the whole story, but we really need to get out of here."
Confused, Jim looked around and realized a few things. For one, he'd apparently been out long enough for Blair to get him out of the gag and handcuffs and the other man was gently rubbing the circulation into his aching wrists. Which, of course made him realize that though the smell of blood was still overwhelming on his sense, Blair was whole and undamaged. Alive. Also, the corpse was gone and the scene cleaned up fairly well. Despite the bloodstains that remained, someone just walking through the building would never know that a battle had just been waged inside.
He was torn between wanting to rejoice and wanting to demand answers.
"Chief-"
Blair held up one weary hand. "Please, Jim. Let's just go to the loft. Once we get there, I'll explain things and answer any questions you want to ask, okay?"
Jim nodded and watched as his guide ran a shaky hand through the riot of curls before seeming to pull himself together. Picking up both his own sword and the discarded rapier, he tucked them under his arm and motioned for the sentinel to follow.
Despite his confusion, he did, promising himself he'd get to the bottom of all of this.
~*~*~
Back at the loft, Blair let out a sigh of relief as he rubbed his freshly clean hair dry. Jim hadn't tried to kill him or demand that he leave yet. He seemed willing to listen to the explanation. It was more than Alistair had offered.
Making his way to the kitchen where the big sentinel sat nursing a beer, he mentally prepared himself for the coming conversation and it's possible outcomes. He was so deep in thought that he almost missed Jim's opening question.
"What exactly are you, Blair? You were dead. Hell, with as much blood as you lost, you should be sitting in an emergency room getting a blood transfusion."
With a sigh, he got his own beer and joined Jim at the table. "It's a long story, but you deserve to know the whole thing, I guess." He'd rarely been called on to answer these kinds of questions, it was a big reason he didn't stay in one place for long. He decided to approach it as if he were the teacher and Jim the student. That, at least, he could handle. "I was found by some peasants in Seville, Spain somewhere around 1400, I'm not sure of an exact date. They named me B'Lair and sort of adopted me. The Moors controlled the city until 1492 when the Catholic monarchs defeated the Moslem kingdom of Granada. I'd lived in relative peace for about a hundred years, never staying too long in one place until 1508 when the Catholic fanatics decided to form the Spanish Inquisition and eradicate all Jews and Moslems in the country. Besides which, someone I'd trusted with the truth betrayed me and turned me in as a witch. Double whammy," his laughter was bitter, "with no way out of it. The trial basically consisted of them torturing me until I repented and forswore Lucifer and then them starting again when my wounds healed since I was obviously still evil and lying to save my own skin. When they finally got tired of that, they turned me over for execution. I'm lucky actually. In France a few years later, corporal punishment was usually beheading- which, by the way, is the only way to kill an immortal. As it was they decided to burn the devil out of me."
He paused at the strangled sound his companion made. Chancing a glance, he idly made note of the green tinge to Jim's face before continuing. "Luckily, I only had to go through that once since Naomi took off with my corpse before it began to regenerate. She was the same as me, only a lot older. She took me under her wing and told me about our race and trained me. For the most part, I've moved around as much as I could because it gets kind of awkward when people start to realize that I'm not aging. It also keeps anyone from getting close enough to ask questions about my past. Honestly, The six years here have been the longest I was in one place in over 300 years." Blair shut his eyes for a moment before pinning Jim with sharp eyes. "So basically, I'm about six hundred years old. I'm immortal but can be killed by beheading. Yes, there are others like me. No we don't all get along. We're all involved in this thing called the Game. No clue why they call it that since losers get killed. In the end, there can be only one left who'll claim some unknown prize. Any questions?"
Blair could tell that there were about a million questions buzzing about his friend's brain, but he wasn't sure if Jim believed enough to actually voice any of them. Still, he hadn't been thrown through any walls, so he figured it just might be okay.
"So I didn't really bring you back at the fountain?"
He started at the unexpected question. "Yes and no. Jim, I've died hundreds of times but I've never gone to the spirit plane before. I didn't think an immortal could." Frowning, Blair stared at the beer in his hand as he thought back. "I had a friend help me research it and we found something. Another immortal who'd also been a guide. His sentinel was killed and he fell into a sort of coma, his body was alive but no one was home, you know?" Jim nodded thoughtfully. "He stayed like that for almost fifty years before another immortal happened by the village and took his head. According to the other immortal, his quickening was wrong somehow. Almost as if Kwanita's own essence wasn't even there. So, I got to thinking-"
Jim held up a hand. "Wait a minute. What's a quickening?"
"Oh. Um.. When an immortal dies, all his strength, power, and knowledge, his very essence, passes to the immortal who takes his head. It's the lightening show you saw earlier. An immortal takes that into his or herself and it becomes part of them. The more heads taken, the more powerful the quickening. It has the power to change a person, but it the winning immortals original quickening should always be the predominant one. And at the very least it should be there somewhere. Anyways, I got to thinking that what happened with them was probably the opposite of what happened to us. When the sentinel died, he couldn't bear to let go of his guide so he pulled Kwanita to the spirit plane with him. Leaving his immortal body here, but taking his soul. Darius, that's my friend, he said that it was probably something due to us being a bound sentinel/guide pair. And that if you hadn't come after me, I'd have probably ended up the same- my body here alive, and my soul wandering around the spirit plane waiting for you."
Rubbing his forehead, Jim sighed and stared at his guide. "I don't know how much of this I actually believe Blair. I don't... I don't know what to do now."
Blair shrugged and tried for a feeble smile. "You listened. That's more than I got the last time a mortal found out."
"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"
"When exactly was I going to work that into conversation, man? 'oh hey, how about those Jags, by the way did I mention that I cut off people's heads?' Yeah right. You'd have either arrested me or had me locked up in a loony bin. And those are the better choices. Trust me Jim. I've seen how mortals react- especially those whose entire lives are controlled by fear-based responses. So far telling people's gotten burned at the stake, stoned to death, and institutionalized. I could really turn your stomach with some of my personal history, man."
Pained ice blue eyes met his. "And you really think I'd do that to you? After all we've gone through?"
He sighed and rested his forehead on the table. "Jim, man. Let me tell you about another sentinel I knew. I wasn't his guide, but we were friends. Hell, we were brothers in every way but blood. We fought together against Cromwell. Hell, I married his sister. But when he saw my immortality first hand? He and a few of our other friends beat me to a pulp and threw me into Lock Ness for the serpent to eat. He and I knew each other for ten years, Jim. Ten years. And there was no Alex Barnes or dissertation to make friction between us."
"I'm not going to lie to you Blair. The idea that you kill on a regular basis doesn't sit well with me. And I'm not exactly comfortable with your.. age."
With a solemn, somewhat sad nod, Blair stood. "I can be out of the loft tomorrow. And if that's not enough, I suppose it's time to move anyways."
Jim grabbed his arm before he could get past. "No. Chief...Blair, that's not what I want." Sighing, the sentinel ran his free hand through his hair. "We are friends, Chief. And this.. This won't change that. I just need some time to... to.. " He stumbled a bit, looking for the right word which Blair supplied with a faint smile.
"Process?"
"Exactly!" Jim's nod was emphatic. "Just let me process it. It'll work out, Chief. Sure there was friction after Barnes and the dissertation, but I think we're better friends now because of it, don't you?"
"Sure, Jim." Blair knew his smile was feeble, but he just couldn't summon up the faith to believe. He also knew that Jim could see his disbelief.
"It'll be all right, Chief. You'll see."
When his sentinel sounded so sure, it was impossible not to let some small bit of hope trickle up. Maybe it would be all right. Maybe Jim could handle the realities of living with an immortal.
Blair's smile was a little more real as he went to his room.
At least he'd have the chance to find out.
I love names and there's meanings.. .Here's the one's for my OC's in this story.
Leandra- Greek name meaning 'like a lion'
Alistair- Scottish name meaning 'protector of mankind'
Solange- French name meaning 'rare jewel'
Kwanita- Native American meaning 'God is Gracious' or 'Grace of God'
