The Witness 22 (THE END)
Mar. 15th, 2007 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galTHE END
Yep, we have reached the official end of "The Witness." I am thinking of doing a sequel, something to deal with Blair's new role at the station, their sex life, and the increasing problems Jim seems to be having with his senses. Keep an eye out for "The Observer," but probably not too soon. I might even save it for a Moonridge auction.
Now I give you....
The Witness 22 of 22
Jim/Blair
Slash
Beta'ed by the wonderful
kitty_poker1enjoy....
"Jim," Simon said as he stepped up to the desk. "No puppy today?" The words were teasing, but the tone instantly put Jim on guard.
"He has classes today."
"He's not home?"
"No. Why?" Jim stood up, a heavy feeling wrapping around his guts.
"We have reports of an explosion and fire at his warehouse."
Brown looked up from his desk. "Is Hairboy okay?" he asked, and, from the expression on Simon's face, Jim knew that the captain didn't know. Jim just blinked for a second before he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
"Hold on. You are not driving with that look in your eye. I've seen your driving record," Simon said as he hurried after Jim, but Jim ignored him as he punched the elevator button. He had just given up and headed for the stairs when Simon caught him by the arm.
"I don't care how worried you are, you can not race down seven flights faster than the elevator. God, Jim, just how deep are you in with this kid?"
Jim scrubbed his face and considered that the answer was far more complicated than he could ever explain. Simon instantly shut up as the elevator doors opened and two uniformed officers from Traffic came out, laughing. Jim barely waited for them to pass before pushing in, Simon close behind. As he pressed the "P" for parking level, Simon started in again.
"Jim, you're just getting over the break-up with Carolyn. I know you get protective, but this kid is trouble. I don't want to see you falling into the middle of it. Besides, he's your ride-along, and I don't see how you can justify endangering prosecutions just to get your rocks off."
Jim tightened his lips. He didn't want to have this conversation right now... or ever. Right now, he just wanted to get to Blair's house and make sure that he was safe.
"Do I need to assign him somewhere else?" Simon asked, the question clearly a threat.
"No," Jim snapped, finally forced into talking. "Simon, he's good on the streets, good with people in a way I'm not. And I'm not about to endanger any case we work."
"That's what I would have assumed a week ago. Now, I'm not so sure. Now, you're acting like a man who is on the verge of putting himself on the line by sleeping with a witness."
"He's not a witness," Jim pointed out. Simon stopped, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he put those pieces together. The elevator doors opened, and Jim strode toward Simon's parking place. He was probably right about Jim not driving because Jim could feel panic rising in a way it hadn't in a long time.
They stayed silent until Simon pulled out into the street, turning on the dash light as he threaded through traffic, some of which stopped, and some didn't. Jim took notes on license plates of cars that didn't stop, determined to write a few tickets just as soon as he found Blair safe and sound and in one piece.
"You can't work with him if your relationship isn't professional."
"There aren't any rules against it." Jim wrote down the license plate of a large SUV driven by a woman who was putting on makeup in her rear-view mirror. He mentally added a second ticket.
"Jim, think of what this could do in the courtroom."
"Gary has no problem with it."
"You talked to *Gary*?" Simon fell silent after that, focusing on the traffic, and Jim could feel the shock roll through the car. It wasn't exactly disapproval, but Jim wasn't expecting any congratulations soon either.
"Simon, I will not put you or myself in a position to have an ethical dilemma. This will not be a problem."
"Oh Jim, I wish I could believe that." Simon didn't say any more, but he drove a little faster as the smoke from the warehouse district appeared from behind an office building. Grey curled up into the sky.
As they turned another corner, red and blue lights reflected off dull buildings. Several news trucks were parked just past a police line, and fire-fighters straggled out of the building carrying equipment. Most of the damage was done to the opposite side of the building from Blair's apartment, but Jim's stomach still clenched in horror at the sight. One wall had blown out, shards of twisted metal littering the street. One police car tilted drunkenly, two tires taken out by the scrap.
Shit. If those had torn through Blair's apartment... If Blair was there... Jim got out of the car before it had completely rolled to a stop.
"Any casualties?" he asked the first uniform he found. The man seemed to hesitate, and Jim closed the distance quickly enough to make the kid back up a step.
"Captain Banks and Detective Ellison," Simon introduced them, holding out a badge toward the wide-eyed rookie. "Who's in charge?"
"Captain Carmonelli, CFD," the man said as he gestured toward a fire truck. "Um, I think three or four people got shot, one was dead, but no officers down," he finally answered Jim.
Jim traded incredulous looks with Simon before they both headed for the fire trucks. Gunfire?
"Sir, I had no idea. They started shooting out of nowhere." Another uniform intercepted them before they could reach their destination, and Jim narrowed his eyes at the pockmarked man. He knew him.
"You were one of the officers who gave Sandburg shit over at the Espinoza scene," Jim accused him. The man's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly.
"My partner and I came over here to apologize. I know he's doing ride-along now, and yeah, some of the guys aren't so okay with that. Carter and I wanted him to know that we aren't with that crowd. He just surprised us at the scene, and we said some things that we shouldn't have."
"What happened?" Simon interrupted.
"We pulled up in front of the warehouse and, within seconds, someone just started firing on us. I returned fire while Carter called for backup." The uniform gestured toward a tall, lanky man in uniform who was talking to another detective, a guy from Narcotics named Lieutenant Williams.
"What the hell was the explosion?"
"That was a gunshot hitting canisters of chemicals. This was a drug lab, a major one," a fire captain offered as he walked up to them. "I thought Williams had this case."
"One of our guys lived next door: Ellison's ride-along," Simon said, giving the other departments a united front even though Jim knew he hadn't heard the last of Simon's displeasure.
"Did any of the victims have long, curly hair, male, about thirty, five foot seven inches?" Jim could feel his guts tighten as he waited for the answer, but the captain just shook his head.
"All our victims are black. Units are still clearing the building, though."
Jim tilted his head. His hearing seemed strangely dull as if the captain's voice had become muffled with cotton. However, he could hear another voice at the end of a long tunnel. Turning around, he scanned the crowd. Reporters lined up with their backs to the scene as they performed for the cameras, and the curious pushed close to where uniformed officers stood by the sawhorse barriers.
There.
"Man, that is my house. This is not a dictatorial regime, and a man has the right to find out what happened to his fucking house."
Jim started walking toward that distant fight. He couldn't actually hear the officer's reply, but Blair crossed his arms furiously.
"Buddy, I am taking your badge number. If I wore a suit and tie, no way would you..."
Blair stopped the minute his eyes found Jim striding toward them. His arms dropped down to his sides, and Jim could see the relief in his face.
"Oh man, will you tell this asshole to stop acting like an asshole?" Blair demanded.
"Show him your pass, Chief," Jim suggested as he felt his own knees weaken in relief.
"Oh, yeah." Blair dug through his backpack until he came up with his ride-along badge, pushing it much closer to the uniform's face than he actually needed to.
"You're kidding," the uniform said as he looked at Jim doubtfully. Jim crossed his arms and glared until the man's expression turned a little more respectful.
"My partner comes behind the line at any scene I'm on," Jim warned. The officer stepped back, and Blair snorted his disgust as he slung his backpack over one shoulder and stepped closer to Jim. Using a hand on Blair's back, Jim herded him back toward Simon and the now larger cluster of people in the middle of the scene. Williams and the uniformed cop's partner, Carter, had joined Simon and the fire captain.
"I see you found your ride-along. Between your driving record and Sandburg's ability to attract trouble, I'm considering taking out disaster insurance for the whole department," Simon complained.
"Oh man, my house. Who blew up my house?"
"That would be the drug dealers who lived next to you," Jim pointed out dryly. Now that the fear had vanished, Jim could feel the rising frustration. "What the hell are you doing living in this neighborhood in the first place, and how could you not notice you had a drug lab next door?"
"Jim, take it easy," Simon coached.
"Oh man, do not pull that alpha shit with me right now. My house just blew up. Blew up. Fuck. I need to see if I actually have any stuff left."
Blair started for the building. The fire captain stepped into his path and Jim grabbed his arm. "No way, not until the building is cleared. Stuff can be replaced; you can't," Jim said firmly.
"Yeah, stuff can be replaced. With what money? I just fucking quit two hours ago, and now my house blew up. I have two months rent into that place, and no way will my landlord give it back. And I need those two months to find some place that I can afford. Fuck."
"You quit?" Simon asked, clearly shocked. Blair crossed his arms and glared.
"Yes, I quit. Now I have to figure out how to live on just my teaching salary, which is not enough to actually live. Fuck. I suppose a couple of clients might not be too freaked out about me working with the police. Maybe." Blair didn't sound convinced, but Jim was focusing more on his own feelings.
Blair quit. The same day Jim had said he hated the job, Blair quit. Jim was caught between a joyful relief that he wouldn't have to share Blair with other men, and a sort of blind terror at the amount of power Blair had handed over in that one act.
"You can stay with me until you get a new place," Jim said quickly. Simon narrowed his eyes and looked at Jim, but Jim just stared back, showing none of the emotions he was feeling.
"Man, I can't believe my house blew up."
"I can," Simon said dryly. “You're a walking disaster, Sandburg. Trouble just follows you."
"Har har. Very funny, man."
"Chief, you aren't going to be able to go in there for a couple of hours. How about you give me a ride back to the station?" Jim said as he started pulling Blair away from the group.
"Do you want a report on this?" Williams asked. Jim left Simon to deal with that as he guided Blair past the police line and back to the car. He got in without a word, and Jim slipped into the passenger side.
"Oh man, they blew up my house. I told you I was building up karma with all my emotional implosions lately, but man, the universe did not have to be that literal."
"You quit," Jim answered as Blair pulled into the street.
"Yeah." He got suddenly quiet.
"You didn't have to."
"Man, if you'd tried telling me that I had to, I so would have told you to take your alpha-dog ego and shove it up your ass," Blair answered quickly. Jim laughed.
"Yeah, you would have."
"I just was not expecting the universe to dump on me two hours after I quit. Man, this is..." Blair let his words trail off, but Jim could hear a pain and worry that he didn't like in Blair's voice.
"You have a place with me."
"I am not going to mooch off you. If I wanted a sugar daddy, I could have found one before now," Blair shot back.
"I didn't say mooch. We could come up with a financial agreement."
"What? Rent? For my space in your bed? Your closet under the stairs? Man, that is a seriously cramped little space, not that I'm going to have a whole lot left after my house blew up."
"Blair--" Jim stopped, really not sure how to say this without crossing the tentative boundaries they were starting to build. Silence ruled as he tried to find the words.
"Okay, I am officially calling a five minute time-out. Anything said will not be used against you, even if you say something that makes you sound like a complete alpha dog moron."
"Hey," Jim objected.
"And I can say anything even if it makes me sound like a total loser. Deal?" Blair bulled right on through.
"Pull over," Jim said. Blair glanced at him, but then he pulled over into the parking lot of a McDonalds. Blair drove toward the back and parked under the shade of a tree. "Deal," Jim said. They both sat and stared at the leaves in silence.
"Okay," Jim finally started. He might as well act like the alpha dog Blair always accused him of being. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of you quitting for me, but I'm glad you quit. And now I'm feeling guilty because you don't have the money to replace everything you just lost."
"Oh, please," Blair snorted. "Get over yourself, Ellison. If I’d really wanted to keep working, I so would have, but honestly, the thrill is just not there."
Jim listened silently, nodding. "Okay, so you didn't do it for me."
"I didn't," Blair insisted, but Jim wasn't buying that for a second.
"I want you to move in." Jim watched as once again that mysterious blush appeared, coloring Blair's cheeks as he dropped his head, letting his hair hide his face. Jim reached over and brushed the hair back so he could see the rare embarrassment.
Blair sighed. "Okay, so I did do it because you hated the job, but if you'd made a big deal out of me quitting, I would have kept working. And I wasn't kidding; the idea of working is not getting me excited the way it did."
"You're good for my alpha-dog ego," Jim said softly.
Blair snorted. "I'm creating Frankenstein's monster here, aren't I?" he asked.
"Sometimes I worry that, yes, I want more control over you than I should," Jim admitted. Right about now Carolyn would have been scrambling out of the car and calling him every name in the book.
"And it scares the shit out of me that the more power I give you, the better it feels. Man, I know all about power exchange, and I know it's a healthy way of expressing an emotional connection, but I'm just..." Blair stopped.
"Scared at how deep it feels," Jim finished for him. Blair nodded.
"Oh hell, yeah. I mean, I wanted it… and I still want it," Blair hurried to correct himself, "but it does kinda freak me out."
"You're telling me," Jim snorted as he went back to staring at the tree. "But I still want you in my house."
"We'll try it for a week. Maybe two," Blair amended.
"That works," Jim agreed, and silently he promised himself to make sure that Blair didn't want to move out.
"And I pay rent."
"No," Jim said flatly.
"Hey, you are not my sugar daddy."
"No, but you're a student. Most students have someone to help out, some family. I'm not going to take money from you until you graduate." Jim cursed his tongue as he let that one slip, sure that Blair would call him on his assumption that he would still be there when he graduated, but Blair didn't seem to notice. He had once again blushed deeply. Jim smiled as he finally put the clues together. The thing Blair wanted more than anything, the thing he wanted enough to blush with desire at the thought, was a home, a permanent relationship.
Jim reached over and gave a lock of hair a tug. "At the risk of sounding like an alpha dog, I want you to be family, and maybe it won't work out and we'll eventually go our own ways, but I want to try this. I want you to come home to me. I want to yell at you about leaving hair in the drain and fix dinner together and tie you up and torture you until you beg for release," Jim confessed. "That's how I see it working between us."
Blair took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh man. I want that." He looked over, and Jim could see the raw fear.
"Then trust me?" Jim asked. Blair tightened his hands around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he stared straight ahead.
"Well, I guess the worst thing that could happen is that this falls apart and I end up having my heart ripped out because I'm falling way too fast for my own good."
"I'll catch you," Jim promised. Blair looked over.
"I guess I'll have to trust you to do that," he agreed. Jim could feel an emotion so strong that he couldn't even identify it wash through him. Reaching out with fingers that tingled, he ran them over Blair's cheek.
"Simon's going to think I've taken you off somewhere to ravage you if we don't get back to the station.”
"I wouldn't mind a little ravaging," Blair suggested with a wink.
"When we get home, Chief," Jim promised. "When we get home."
"He has classes today."
"He's not home?"
"No. Why?" Jim stood up, a heavy feeling wrapping around his guts.
"We have reports of an explosion and fire at his warehouse."
Brown looked up from his desk. "Is Hairboy okay?" he asked, and, from the expression on Simon's face, Jim knew that the captain didn't know. Jim just blinked for a second before he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
"Hold on. You are not driving with that look in your eye. I've seen your driving record," Simon said as he hurried after Jim, but Jim ignored him as he punched the elevator button. He had just given up and headed for the stairs when Simon caught him by the arm.
"I don't care how worried you are, you can not race down seven flights faster than the elevator. God, Jim, just how deep are you in with this kid?"
Jim scrubbed his face and considered that the answer was far more complicated than he could ever explain. Simon instantly shut up as the elevator doors opened and two uniformed officers from Traffic came out, laughing. Jim barely waited for them to pass before pushing in, Simon close behind. As he pressed the "P" for parking level, Simon started in again.
"Jim, you're just getting over the break-up with Carolyn. I know you get protective, but this kid is trouble. I don't want to see you falling into the middle of it. Besides, he's your ride-along, and I don't see how you can justify endangering prosecutions just to get your rocks off."
Jim tightened his lips. He didn't want to have this conversation right now... or ever. Right now, he just wanted to get to Blair's house and make sure that he was safe.
"Do I need to assign him somewhere else?" Simon asked, the question clearly a threat.
"No," Jim snapped, finally forced into talking. "Simon, he's good on the streets, good with people in a way I'm not. And I'm not about to endanger any case we work."
"That's what I would have assumed a week ago. Now, I'm not so sure. Now, you're acting like a man who is on the verge of putting himself on the line by sleeping with a witness."
"He's not a witness," Jim pointed out. Simon stopped, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he put those pieces together. The elevator doors opened, and Jim strode toward Simon's parking place. He was probably right about Jim not driving because Jim could feel panic rising in a way it hadn't in a long time.
They stayed silent until Simon pulled out into the street, turning on the dash light as he threaded through traffic, some of which stopped, and some didn't. Jim took notes on license plates of cars that didn't stop, determined to write a few tickets just as soon as he found Blair safe and sound and in one piece.
"You can't work with him if your relationship isn't professional."
"There aren't any rules against it." Jim wrote down the license plate of a large SUV driven by a woman who was putting on makeup in her rear-view mirror. He mentally added a second ticket.
"Jim, think of what this could do in the courtroom."
"Gary has no problem with it."
"You talked to *Gary*?" Simon fell silent after that, focusing on the traffic, and Jim could feel the shock roll through the car. It wasn't exactly disapproval, but Jim wasn't expecting any congratulations soon either.
"Simon, I will not put you or myself in a position to have an ethical dilemma. This will not be a problem."
"Oh Jim, I wish I could believe that." Simon didn't say any more, but he drove a little faster as the smoke from the warehouse district appeared from behind an office building. Grey curled up into the sky.
As they turned another corner, red and blue lights reflected off dull buildings. Several news trucks were parked just past a police line, and fire-fighters straggled out of the building carrying equipment. Most of the damage was done to the opposite side of the building from Blair's apartment, but Jim's stomach still clenched in horror at the sight. One wall had blown out, shards of twisted metal littering the street. One police car tilted drunkenly, two tires taken out by the scrap.
Shit. If those had torn through Blair's apartment... If Blair was there... Jim got out of the car before it had completely rolled to a stop.
"Any casualties?" he asked the first uniform he found. The man seemed to hesitate, and Jim closed the distance quickly enough to make the kid back up a step.
"Captain Banks and Detective Ellison," Simon introduced them, holding out a badge toward the wide-eyed rookie. "Who's in charge?"
"Captain Carmonelli, CFD," the man said as he gestured toward a fire truck. "Um, I think three or four people got shot, one was dead, but no officers down," he finally answered Jim.
Jim traded incredulous looks with Simon before they both headed for the fire trucks. Gunfire?
"Sir, I had no idea. They started shooting out of nowhere." Another uniform intercepted them before they could reach their destination, and Jim narrowed his eyes at the pockmarked man. He knew him.
"You were one of the officers who gave Sandburg shit over at the Espinoza scene," Jim accused him. The man's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly.
"My partner and I came over here to apologize. I know he's doing ride-along now, and yeah, some of the guys aren't so okay with that. Carter and I wanted him to know that we aren't with that crowd. He just surprised us at the scene, and we said some things that we shouldn't have."
"What happened?" Simon interrupted.
"We pulled up in front of the warehouse and, within seconds, someone just started firing on us. I returned fire while Carter called for backup." The uniform gestured toward a tall, lanky man in uniform who was talking to another detective, a guy from Narcotics named Lieutenant Williams.
"What the hell was the explosion?"
"That was a gunshot hitting canisters of chemicals. This was a drug lab, a major one," a fire captain offered as he walked up to them. "I thought Williams had this case."
"One of our guys lived next door: Ellison's ride-along," Simon said, giving the other departments a united front even though Jim knew he hadn't heard the last of Simon's displeasure.
"Did any of the victims have long, curly hair, male, about thirty, five foot seven inches?" Jim could feel his guts tighten as he waited for the answer, but the captain just shook his head.
"All our victims are black. Units are still clearing the building, though."
Jim tilted his head. His hearing seemed strangely dull as if the captain's voice had become muffled with cotton. However, he could hear another voice at the end of a long tunnel. Turning around, he scanned the crowd. Reporters lined up with their backs to the scene as they performed for the cameras, and the curious pushed close to where uniformed officers stood by the sawhorse barriers.
There.
"Man, that is my house. This is not a dictatorial regime, and a man has the right to find out what happened to his fucking house."
Jim started walking toward that distant fight. He couldn't actually hear the officer's reply, but Blair crossed his arms furiously.
"Buddy, I am taking your badge number. If I wore a suit and tie, no way would you..."
Blair stopped the minute his eyes found Jim striding toward them. His arms dropped down to his sides, and Jim could see the relief in his face.
"Oh man, will you tell this asshole to stop acting like an asshole?" Blair demanded.
"Show him your pass, Chief," Jim suggested as he felt his own knees weaken in relief.
"Oh, yeah." Blair dug through his backpack until he came up with his ride-along badge, pushing it much closer to the uniform's face than he actually needed to.
"You're kidding," the uniform said as he looked at Jim doubtfully. Jim crossed his arms and glared until the man's expression turned a little more respectful.
"My partner comes behind the line at any scene I'm on," Jim warned. The officer stepped back, and Blair snorted his disgust as he slung his backpack over one shoulder and stepped closer to Jim. Using a hand on Blair's back, Jim herded him back toward Simon and the now larger cluster of people in the middle of the scene. Williams and the uniformed cop's partner, Carter, had joined Simon and the fire captain.
"I see you found your ride-along. Between your driving record and Sandburg's ability to attract trouble, I'm considering taking out disaster insurance for the whole department," Simon complained.
"Oh man, my house. Who blew up my house?"
"That would be the drug dealers who lived next to you," Jim pointed out dryly. Now that the fear had vanished, Jim could feel the rising frustration. "What the hell are you doing living in this neighborhood in the first place, and how could you not notice you had a drug lab next door?"
"Jim, take it easy," Simon coached.
"Oh man, do not pull that alpha shit with me right now. My house just blew up. Blew up. Fuck. I need to see if I actually have any stuff left."
Blair started for the building. The fire captain stepped into his path and Jim grabbed his arm. "No way, not until the building is cleared. Stuff can be replaced; you can't," Jim said firmly.
"Yeah, stuff can be replaced. With what money? I just fucking quit two hours ago, and now my house blew up. I have two months rent into that place, and no way will my landlord give it back. And I need those two months to find some place that I can afford. Fuck."
"You quit?" Simon asked, clearly shocked. Blair crossed his arms and glared.
"Yes, I quit. Now I have to figure out how to live on just my teaching salary, which is not enough to actually live. Fuck. I suppose a couple of clients might not be too freaked out about me working with the police. Maybe." Blair didn't sound convinced, but Jim was focusing more on his own feelings.
Blair quit. The same day Jim had said he hated the job, Blair quit. Jim was caught between a joyful relief that he wouldn't have to share Blair with other men, and a sort of blind terror at the amount of power Blair had handed over in that one act.
"You can stay with me until you get a new place," Jim said quickly. Simon narrowed his eyes and looked at Jim, but Jim just stared back, showing none of the emotions he was feeling.
"Man, I can't believe my house blew up."
"I can," Simon said dryly. “You're a walking disaster, Sandburg. Trouble just follows you."
"Har har. Very funny, man."
"Chief, you aren't going to be able to go in there for a couple of hours. How about you give me a ride back to the station?" Jim said as he started pulling Blair away from the group.
"Do you want a report on this?" Williams asked. Jim left Simon to deal with that as he guided Blair past the police line and back to the car. He got in without a word, and Jim slipped into the passenger side.
"Oh man, they blew up my house. I told you I was building up karma with all my emotional implosions lately, but man, the universe did not have to be that literal."
"You quit," Jim answered as Blair pulled into the street.
"Yeah." He got suddenly quiet.
"You didn't have to."
"Man, if you'd tried telling me that I had to, I so would have told you to take your alpha-dog ego and shove it up your ass," Blair answered quickly. Jim laughed.
"Yeah, you would have."
"I just was not expecting the universe to dump on me two hours after I quit. Man, this is..." Blair let his words trail off, but Jim could hear a pain and worry that he didn't like in Blair's voice.
"You have a place with me."
"I am not going to mooch off you. If I wanted a sugar daddy, I could have found one before now," Blair shot back.
"I didn't say mooch. We could come up with a financial agreement."
"What? Rent? For my space in your bed? Your closet under the stairs? Man, that is a seriously cramped little space, not that I'm going to have a whole lot left after my house blew up."
"Blair--" Jim stopped, really not sure how to say this without crossing the tentative boundaries they were starting to build. Silence ruled as he tried to find the words.
"Okay, I am officially calling a five minute time-out. Anything said will not be used against you, even if you say something that makes you sound like a complete alpha dog moron."
"Hey," Jim objected.
"And I can say anything even if it makes me sound like a total loser. Deal?" Blair bulled right on through.
"Pull over," Jim said. Blair glanced at him, but then he pulled over into the parking lot of a McDonalds. Blair drove toward the back and parked under the shade of a tree. "Deal," Jim said. They both sat and stared at the leaves in silence.
"Okay," Jim finally started. He might as well act like the alpha dog Blair always accused him of being. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of you quitting for me, but I'm glad you quit. And now I'm feeling guilty because you don't have the money to replace everything you just lost."
"Oh, please," Blair snorted. "Get over yourself, Ellison. If I’d really wanted to keep working, I so would have, but honestly, the thrill is just not there."
Jim listened silently, nodding. "Okay, so you didn't do it for me."
"I didn't," Blair insisted, but Jim wasn't buying that for a second.
"I want you to move in." Jim watched as once again that mysterious blush appeared, coloring Blair's cheeks as he dropped his head, letting his hair hide his face. Jim reached over and brushed the hair back so he could see the rare embarrassment.
Blair sighed. "Okay, so I did do it because you hated the job, but if you'd made a big deal out of me quitting, I would have kept working. And I wasn't kidding; the idea of working is not getting me excited the way it did."
"You're good for my alpha-dog ego," Jim said softly.
Blair snorted. "I'm creating Frankenstein's monster here, aren't I?" he asked.
"Sometimes I worry that, yes, I want more control over you than I should," Jim admitted. Right about now Carolyn would have been scrambling out of the car and calling him every name in the book.
"And it scares the shit out of me that the more power I give you, the better it feels. Man, I know all about power exchange, and I know it's a healthy way of expressing an emotional connection, but I'm just..." Blair stopped.
"Scared at how deep it feels," Jim finished for him. Blair nodded.
"Oh hell, yeah. I mean, I wanted it… and I still want it," Blair hurried to correct himself, "but it does kinda freak me out."
"You're telling me," Jim snorted as he went back to staring at the tree. "But I still want you in my house."
"We'll try it for a week. Maybe two," Blair amended.
"That works," Jim agreed, and silently he promised himself to make sure that Blair didn't want to move out.
"And I pay rent."
"No," Jim said flatly.
"Hey, you are not my sugar daddy."
"No, but you're a student. Most students have someone to help out, some family. I'm not going to take money from you until you graduate." Jim cursed his tongue as he let that one slip, sure that Blair would call him on his assumption that he would still be there when he graduated, but Blair didn't seem to notice. He had once again blushed deeply. Jim smiled as he finally put the clues together. The thing Blair wanted more than anything, the thing he wanted enough to blush with desire at the thought, was a home, a permanent relationship.
Jim reached over and gave a lock of hair a tug. "At the risk of sounding like an alpha dog, I want you to be family, and maybe it won't work out and we'll eventually go our own ways, but I want to try this. I want you to come home to me. I want to yell at you about leaving hair in the drain and fix dinner together and tie you up and torture you until you beg for release," Jim confessed. "That's how I see it working between us."
Blair took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh man. I want that." He looked over, and Jim could see the raw fear.
"Then trust me?" Jim asked. Blair tightened his hands around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he stared straight ahead.
"Well, I guess the worst thing that could happen is that this falls apart and I end up having my heart ripped out because I'm falling way too fast for my own good."
"I'll catch you," Jim promised. Blair looked over.
"I guess I'll have to trust you to do that," he agreed. Jim could feel an emotion so strong that he couldn't even identify it wash through him. Reaching out with fingers that tingled, he ran them over Blair's cheek.
"Simon's going to think I've taken you off somewhere to ravage you if we don't get back to the station.”
"I wouldn't mind a little ravaging," Blair suggested with a wink.
"When we get home, Chief," Jim promised. "When we get home."
