I sat down at the 'puter the other day to write out a story based upon a dream I'd had. One of the many voices in my mind said 'hey why not use Jim and Blair to help illustrate it.' The others took some time to confer, and after a not so long deliberation, they all agreed. I guess all of my mind can be united when it comes to 'the boys'.
Anyway, I typed out the first paragraph that coincided with my dream, then everything went in an entirely different direction. I stopped at one point, poking and prodding at the mental masses within my head, but they would not even squeak a hint as to where they wanted this fic to go. Resigning myself to their whim, I ran with it and this is the result.
Hey I bet you would too if those voices in your head decided to all agree on something for once...you wouldn't?...Ooooohhhh, you mean you don't have those voi...ces...Uh...Right, Okay, well just ignore the fact I said anything...No, no, I'm fine. NO I don't need that jacket....Seriously, white doesn't look good on me at all. And those long sleeves...I couldn't possibly type while wearing that...What was that? What do you mean, that is 'the point?'....
Title: Where's your dial, man?
Author: Lea
Rated: PG I guess
No spoilers
A BIG thank you to Xasphie for taking the time, once again, to beta for me. You are WONDERFUL!!!!! (with LOTS of exclamation marks)
All mistakes within are mine and mine alone. In fact they are pretty much the only thing I can claim as mine, except for McNichol...But I don't like him so shoves him onto a random person You can have him!
Constructive Criticism is helpful and welcome.
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Where's your dial, man?
By
Lea
"Hold it right there McNichol!" Jim shouted through the window of his truck. "Step outta the car and keep your hands where I can see them!" He punctuated the order with a hard 'Ellison no-nonsense' glare.
"Who the hell are you?" The older man shouted back, his hands gripping the steering wheel of the white corvette reflexively.
"I'm Detective James Ellison of the Cascade PD. Now, do as I said!" Slowly, like a predator, Jim moved around the door, closer to the suspect. "Step outta the car NOW!"
"If you would tell me what I have done, I might be more likely to comply." His 'prey' reasoned, acting nothing like 'prey' at all.
As Jim stepped closer, he studied every move the other man made, every muscle twitch of his face, every steady breath. The hair raised on the back of the Detective's neck. This man was too calm. Too composed. Even the nervous wheel gripping he had been making just moment's before, had stopped. This man had come to a decision, and somehow, the tall man knew it didn't bode well for either him or Blair.
Thinking of Blair....
Still watching his quarry, the Sentinel stretched his hearing until he heard the nervous thump thump of his partner's heartbeat. Scowling, he moved closer to the corvette. What the hell does he think he is doing? He could tell Blair was slowly making his way through the trees on the other side of the car. How he had maneuvered himself over there without the killer seeing him? Even Jim was unsure. But for now he would continue to distract the guy in an attempt to keep his roommate safe.
"I will say it a little more clearly." The Sentinel ground out. "Step...Out...Of...The...Car...NOW. You are already in enough trouble McNichol, don't add to the charges."
The snarl that exploded from the man's face, while expected, was still effective in halting Jim's advancing motion, especially considering it coincided with a forward surge from the corvette. In fact he had a hard time dodging out of the way when it tried to run him over. After a quick jump and tuck, Ellison rolled back to his feet, following the car over the sight of his gun. A sardonic part of his mind just had to add the commentary, Wow, Ellison; you didn't drop your weapon. Will wonders ever cease. What gave him pause was the fact that the inner voice sounded suspiciously like Sandburg's.
His frown grew deeper at that. He really didn't need to think about his past failings right now, the perp was getting away. Throwing a glance to his left before heading towards the old pickup, he saw Blair stumble out of the tree line. "Hurry up Chief!"
Damnit! McNichol is going to get away – again.
Quickly pulling himself into the driver's side of his 'baby', he threw his senses down the road as he waited for Blair to get to the door. Suddenly the hair on the nape of his neck rose again. He had made out the unmistakable whine of the engine in his quarry's car, but it was coming towards them. Throwing a worried glance to his partner, Jim began to panic. Sandburg was just starting to cross the road...at a clip a little faster then a snails pace. "Blair! Move it!" He ordered harshly.
"Geez, I'm coming as fast as I can." The young man groused in response, completely missing the desperation in his friend's voice. "Who does he think I am? The Flash?" He continued before picking up his pace.
Jim just growled his frustration, he didn't have time for his roommate's PMS. "Damn it, Sandburg! He's coming back!"
The Sentinel heard Blair's heart skip a beat, as the kid looked up with wide eyes and froze in the middle of the road. Realization had finally started to set in.
"No! Chief!" Jim shouted angrily, throwing his pickup into gear. "Damn it!" He could see the white corvette coming down the highway, heat rolling over the hood, distorting the view around it. Not that Ellison was looking at the view. No. He was too busy playing a worst case scenario through his head...on loop. As visions of curly haired anthropologist road kill danced through his mind, he bared his teeth in agitation. Like hell that is going to happen. Not while I'm around.
He didn't have time to brace himself for collision. Truthfully, he barely had time to place himself, truck and all, between the oncoming four wheels of death and his housemate.
All senses tuned into those precious milliseconds....The rapid tattoo of his Guide's heart....'Baby's' protesting vibrations as he punched the gas....The distinct smell of fear....The taste of sweat as he licked his upper lip....The wicked gleam in McNichol's eye as he coaxed his vett ever faster....Each became etched into his memory as he prayed his gambit would work.
And then there was impact.
"JIIIMMM!"
Funny. Over the sound of tearing metal, he could have sworn he heard Blair scream his name. But that couldn't be right. At that moment he could imagine nothing louder then that horrible noise of screeching metal against metal with the intermittent sounds of shattering glass...or even the profound silence that quickly came after.
Blinking heavily the Sentinel found himself staring down at the floor of his cab.
"Jim!"
Trying to suck in some air, his breath hitched at the white hot pain in his chest.
"Jim?"
Again he blinked, this time against the tears that pain brought fourth. Hissing through his teeth, the Detective pulled his throbbing head up from the steering wheel.
"Jim? Whoa, easy there, Jim, take it easy."
Using up all of his strength, he felt his himself fall back against the headrest of his seat, before he rolled against the shattered window beside him. "Hey Chief." He slurred towards the frightened face that swam in his vision.
"Oh geez Jim, don't move, okay? Just stay still. I've called the ambulance already. Just stay still."
The Detective was struggling to make out the words that tumbled out of the younger man's mouth, but they were coming out too fast. Frowning, he watched the kid's lips move. It was fascinating how such simple movements could make so many different sounds.
"...Hurt anywhere? Jim, c'mon, I need your cooperation here. Tell me what hurts. I need...."
He pantomimed the movements Blair was making with his lips, simply amazing but it was getting harder to follow the quick movements. Squinting, the Sentinel frowned. Everything was becoming fuzzier. Searching for something to anchor his gaze, he found two pools of blue so deep he felt like he was drowning. Fearful, he began to gasp for breath.
"Easy JIM! Shhh. It's Okay."
He felt hands placed upon the sides of his face, but all he could see were those deep blue pits. So warm....
His mind skipped.
"JIM! Stay with me man. Don't you leave me!"
Prying his eyes open again, he found Blair's face inches from his own.
"Oh GOD, Jim, don't do that again. Just stay awake a little longer. Just a little longer, and I promise you I'll let you sleep."
He desperately wanted to know what Blair was saying; somehow he knew it was important. It was always important. Even in his ramblings about 'this tribe in Africa' or 'I read somewhere about the mating rituals of....' The Detective chuckled breathlessly.
"Jim? Hey man, what's so funny? Can you tell me? Speak to me, please."
His housemate was so intelligent. Blair always had something to say about everything and even though he groused about it from time to time, the constant commentary was something Jim truly cherished about his partner.
The Sentinel groaned when he tried to focus all of his senses. Of course doing so would bring back the pain. Angry with himself he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed back against the raging beast within him.
"...Dial...number...down...."
Words began to break through the haze of pain Jim felt. Struggling to understand what Blair was trying to say he latched onto one word. 'Dial.' Why does that sound familiar? Searching through the bits and pieces of his shattered memories, he finally remembered something.
Forcing his eyes open he gave Blair his most incredulous stare. "Soap?"
"Huh? Wha...Jim?"
Jim was relieved to note he could see his housemate's expressions much clearer now, but he didn't understand the fish gape look the young anthropologist was giving him. Frowning he tried again. "Do-ya nee' shoppin' to soap?"
He was quite proud of himself, considering how hard it was to put that sentence together. It didn't matter whether it made sense or not. At least it didn't until he made out Blair's worried and confused look once more.
"Soap?" His partner parroted.
Irritated at the lack of his own coherency, Jim tried to take a calming breath. He felt black fingertips gripping at his consciousness, but he fought to stay awake, to at least finish straightening out this confusing mess. "Yessss soap. You said...Dial. Issa soap." Feeling the issue was not over he sighed tiredly then closed his eyes to gather his thoughts once again.
Sound began to waver in and out as the blackness slid through him.
"...UP! Don't... sleep. Please Jim....DO...HEAR ME? Stay awake!"
He knew that tone of voice, but not the words. Their meaning could not part the thick blanket that was spreading over his tired mind. Still, that tone... He struggled to wake back up. That tone meant Blair was scared and frantic. Something must be wrong. Primal instinct told him to fight the blackness, his guide needed him, but even primal instinct can loose....
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Beep
Beep
Beep
Jim felt a groan build in the back of his throat, and breathed irritably through his nose in an attempt to suppress it. That irritating beeping sound was all too familiar, not to mention that disinfected smell that seemed to be burning his nose hairs. Scowling, he carefully opened one eye to find a darkened room.
Opening his other eye, he slowly looked around. It didn't take him long to find what he was unconsciously searching for. Blair sat in a chair at his bedside, slumped in slumber. Familiar to this scene as well, the Sentinel just smiled tiredly.
After a moments rest, he slowly forced his hand through the bars on the hospital bed, and let it drop. Ignoring the pain that emanated from his chest, he limply brushed the appendage against the plaid fabric of the younger man's over shirt.
"Bl..air."
He swallowed hard against the irritation in his throat, and called again knowing his housemate would not have heard that fist pitiful whisper.
"Blair." He was rewarded almost immediately. Those blue orbs opened wide in an instant dazzling display of smiles.
"Jim? You're awake!" The younger man found his hand and gripped it tightly in his own as he launched into a hushed yet highly animated one-sided conversation. "Oh man, it is SO good to have you back! It's been three days, did you know that? Geez man, you had me worried, I mean what the hell did you think you were doing? I about had a heart attack when you put your truck between me and McNichol. And then his corvette slammed into you, glass went everywhere....You could have been killed!"
Those eyes of his showed a tidal wave of emotions that left Jim feeling breathless. It pained him to know that he had caused so much emotional turmoil for Blair. With a sigh, he turned his head to stare at the ceiling while still listening to the litany.
"McNichol died in that crash. I hate to say it man, but I am kinda glad. I mean he needed to pay for what he did. All those children.... Still my heart jumped into my throat when I saw him speeding down the road right towards me. I can't believe I froze up like that." Blair paused a moment to take a much needed breath before continuing. "The worst part of this is the fact you put yourself in danger for me...again! Why is it always like that? How is it I seem to get into trouble so much? Do I have a sign that says 'Here I am, pick me'?"
Feeling that those were rhetorical questions, Jim just relaxed further into his pillow and turned back to watch his partner ramble. Yes, I even cherish these moments. Blinking, he frowned as he wondered where that thought had come from.
Misreading the frown, Blair leaned forward worriedly. "Jim? You okay? What's wrong? Are you in pain? Do I need to call someone?"
Now those are NOT rhetorical questions. Jim acknowledged. With a sigh, he ordered his thoughts and was about to answer when Blair shook his head in self recrimination.
"Of course you're in pain, what kind of stupid idiotic question was that?" He pounded the heel of his free hand into his forehead. "Gah! Stupid, stupid!"
Sighing again, Jim slightly squeezed the hand that held his, instantly regaining his partner's attention. "Stop Blair, that..." He took a tired breath, "Doesn' accomplish 'nything."
Hanging his head low in true whipped dog fashion, Blair murmured, "You're right Jim."
The Sentinel frowned again. It was easy to see how Blair was blaming himself for this. Squeezing the warm hand in his weak grip again, he captured the younger man's gaze as he looked up. "Are you alright?"
"Me?" Those blue eyes turned into a deer-in-headlights stare. "Well, yeah, yeah, I'm fine physically. Nothing happened to me, not a scratch." And, as if to demonstrate that fact, the Anthropologist swung his free arm up in the air. "But that doesn't matter. Jim, I was scared, and I am not talking about me here, I was scared you were going to die. It terrified me, man, to think I was going to lose you."
Jim could see Blair getting irritable as his breathing became harsh and his eyes wide. "S'okay Chief," he slurred, gently. "'M here. An' I don' plan 'n going 'nywhere."
"Better not," Taking a steadying breath, the younger man visibly forced himself to relax. "'Cause I don't want to go through that again."
"Now we're even." The Sentinel muttered as he wiggled to get more comfortable. The slight shift instantly reminded him of why he was in the hospital in the first place.
At the hiss of pain, Blair was standing, making calming noises. "Easy breath, take it easy, that's it. Relax. Where's your dial at man. What number is..." He stopped his rambling when he heard Jim's breathless chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Blair asked with confusion.
"Not sure why's funny," the invalid began with his own exhausted, yet puzzled expression, "But I jus' had a vision of you shoppin'." He licked his lips tiredly before adding. "For soap."
"Soap?" Blair prodded, before realizing Jim's eyes were closing.
"Yeah," He sighed as sleep crept up on him. "Soap."
"Soap? But why soa...? OH! Soap!" Shaking his head to himself, the young Anthropologist straightened his friend's blankets before settling back into his own straight back chair. "Go to sleep Jim, we will talk about soap brands another time."
And the Sentinel knew all was right in the world as he drifted off to the calming sound of his Guide's chuckle.
