The Observer 4
Aug. 7th, 2007 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galThe Observer (4/17)
Sequel to "The Witness"
beta'ed by Beta'ed by Kitty_poker1 and Slashpuppy and Janedavitt
ADULT/SLASH
Warnings: Puppy play, dom/sub, bondage
Sequel to "The Witness"
beta'ed by Beta'ed by Kitty_poker1 and Slashpuppy and Janedavitt
ADULT/SLASH
Warnings: Puppy play, dom/sub, bondage
CHAPTER FOUR
***
Jim flipped through another page of the Tacoma reports, and slid it across the table to a strangely silent Blair. Collins leaned against the far wall, his eyes scanning the list Jim had brought with them. Not many detectives had a list of every criminal they'd ever participated in busting, but Jim had started his as a way to prove to himself that he was making a difference. After the army, he'd felt like nothing he did made an impact, not compared to what he'd done. He'd held the Chopec Pass; he'd saved the tribe.
Jim blinked as his memories of jungle and blue light filtering through the thick canopy at night were suddenly superimposed over the Tacoma interview room. The table with copies of the Switchman case blinked away into the jungle floor, and Blair's heartbeat became the drum of a native dance.
Collins made a little snort and passed the list over to Shay. The sound pulled Jim back to the present, where Collins leaned toward his seated partner and pointed to a name on Jim's list.
"You busted Riche." Shay nodded and smiled. The man looked more gangster than cop: shaved head, thin face, a tattoo crawling up his neck and brushing his jaw, so the smile was anything but nice. "We worked his coke business for two years before he moved to Cascade."
"He was slippery. He finally took a belt to his girlfriend, so we got her to turn on him… wear a wire. Busting him was a good day," Jim answered before he went back to reading one of the last witness statements from the folder. So far it seemed like Collins and Shay were living up to the promise of full disclosure, but nothing in these reports looked familiar. High end timers… dangerous for a novice to use, but much more reliable in the hands of a professional. The post office bombing had been the more serious of the two bombings, killing two with a third still in critical condition.
When Jim finished the statement of one of the injured postal workers, he pushed it across the table to Blair, who absentmindedly took it and shoved it in his "unread" pile. He continued to study witness statements and jot notes on a yellow legal pad without a word. Before getting out of the truck, Blair had pulled his hair back into a tight ponytail. With his jacket on and his hair back, he looked more like the professor Jim remembered from the day he'd gone to Rainier than the unconventional observer who'd enthusiastically followed him for the last couple of weeks.
"Nothing rings any bells," Collins growled as he flung Jim's list onto the interview table and dropped into a chair.
"I'm striking out," Jim agreed as he looked at the last three papers in the pile the Tacoma officers had made them. Collins glanced toward Blair, but he just continued scribbling on his yellow pad, silent and oblivious, two things Jim never saw in his partner.
"Can we look at the scenes?" Jim asked when the silence made it clear that Blair wasn't going to answer.
"Two bomb sites, coming up," Collins said as he pushed himself up heavily. Where Shay looked like a gangster, Collins was a strange cross between couch potato and military. He had a buzz cut and the bulky arms and wide shoulders of a body builder, but now a layer of fat disguised that physique.
"Good luck. We found a big zero on scene," Shay snorted, but he got up to follow his partner while Blair scrambled to pull all the photocopied pages into one pile. So, at least Blair was listening even if he had suddenly taken a vow of silence.
"This crackpot obviously wants me involved, so maybe the places have some connection to me specifically," Jim suggested.
"Which leads to the obvious question: why bomb us instead of going and attacking your fair city?" Shay looked straight at Jim, a challenge in his face, and Jim answered it with a stare of his own.
"You'll know as soon as I do," Jim said quietly, his voice a warning. Behind Jim, Blair scribbled on his notepad so that the pen scratches against the paper became a static that hung in the tense air.
"The post office is closest," Collins commented calmly before he headed out the door. Shay continued to lock gazes with Jim for a second, and then he turned and followed his partner. Jim rolled his eyes as the door swung closed on weighted hinges.
"Man, you make me so glad I'm not an alpha," Blair whispered so softly that Jim almost missed the words. He turned and watched Blair slip the now-thick Switchman file into the back of his legal pad, behind the paper.
"No, you'll never be alpha," Jim agreed.
Blair's startled eyes darted up to his face."Oh man, you heard that? You have ears like a bat, but I am so not suggesting that there's anything wrong with being alpha."
"Calm down, Chief. I happen to like being alpha, but I also like you not being alpha," Jim said as Blair came around the table. Watching the vibrant, ebullient personality come out from under the silence made something in his stomach unknot.
"Are you okay?" Jim asked quietly, turning so that his body blocked the exit.
"What? No, hey, I'm fine," Blair said with a smile. Jim would have pursued that train of thought since Blair clearly wasn't fine, but Collins stuck his head back in the door.
"You guys coming?" he asked. Blair fell silent.
"Yeah, right after you," Jim agreed as he considered his partner's sudden personality shift. "We'll follow in my truck if you guys want to head straight for the scene," Jim suggested, as he decided he needed a little private time with his observer.
"Will do. Take the north entrance. Less debris in the parking lot."
"Got it."
Collins left and Jim studied Blair for a second.
"Hey, aren't we going?" Blair finally asked. Jim turned so that Blair could get to the door, and as he passed, Jim rested his hand on Blair's back. Suddenly Blair was all energy, just about chasing after Collins down the hallway of the Tacoma Police Department.
Jim let his hand fall, barely avoiding snapping out something, even though he couldn't figure out why he was so damn upset at such a small gesture. Keeping his silence all the way to the truck, Jim climbed in and unlocked the door for Blair.
"Oh man, this is fascinating. There is nothing like this, except for maybe the Bath school disaster, but bombings are totally a political statement, and yet this seems personal. We so need a profiler in on this case, not that they would be able to help that much because this is breaking all the rules for traditional profiles." Blair's torrent of words broke free the moment Jim slammed the door shut.
"That's what you were taking notes on?" Jim prompted as he started the truck and guided it out of the visitors' lot.
"Totally. The discrepancies are amazing. Sure, bombings are the 'in' thing." Blair made quote marks with his fingers, the restless energy that made him bounce all returning like a rubber band that snaps back to its original shape. "The Animal Liberation Front, the Irish Republican Army, some jihadist Arabs, they use bombings to get attention, but there's no demand or cause here… just a letter to you, and man, that is weird."
"And you didn't say anything because?" Jim prompted.
"I wasn't going to go off on crazy tangents in the middle of your meeting," Blair huffed as though Jim had said something utterly ridiculous, and for a second Jim lost all words. He wouldn't go off? He wouldn't get in the middle of a meeting?
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my observer? Little guy. Mouthy. Hair like a cocker spaniel," Jim finally demanded.
"Very funny," Blair growled in a voice that didn't sound amused.
"I thought so." Jim smiled, but then he turned serious. "However, you always say what you're thinking, even when what you're thinking makes Simon chew on those cigars of his. I'm wondering what the hell happened that turned you into the shy type. Did one of them say something to you?" Jim held tight rein over his own anger at that thought.
"Chill. I can sit quietly in the corner without anything being wrong."
"Gagged and tied, maybe, but even then you'd make those little grunting sounds."
Blair glared. "Man, I'm an anthropologist."
Jim raised an eyebrow and waited for some other explanation because a quiet Blair did not exist in his universe. A driver in a Volvo slowed, searching for a turn, and Jim slid his truck into the void in front of it.
"Anthropologists are supposed to be as invisible as possible; they try to minimize their impact on the community. *I* try to minimize my impact in the community."
"Chief, don't take offense at this, but you're more like ground zero than minimal impact."
"Yeah, I know." Blair sighed unhappily. "If I thought I was going to be studying you, I totally would have taken another approach. You so would never have known I was bi, and anything even mildly counter-culture, like the job subbing for guys, would have been buried so deep you wouldn't have found it with a search and rescue team complete with bloodhounds."
"But you didn't set off to study us," Jim concluded as he connected the dots. Blair as witness and Blair as anthropologist had very different goals. Reaching out with one hand, Jim let his palm rest on Blair's thigh. "I'm glad I got to know the witness before I met the scientist."
"Man, I don't know. If I had come into the station to do a study, I would have totally tried to fit in. I would have been playing horn dog right up there with H. I would have been smoking cigars with Simon."
Jim outright laughed at that improbable image. "Not a chance, Sandburg. But I prefer you in my bed and smoke-free, so I'm glad we didn't have to find out. Right now, though, I'm a little worried about the pod-person impersonation here. It's not like you to sit on your hands on a case like this."
"Jim, we've only worked five cases together."
"Exactly. On every one of the five, you were in there stealing case notes before I even had a chance to read them and outlining potential new avenues of investigation."
"Yeah." Blair fell silent. "I'm not doing well with the observing part of observer," he said softly. Jim squeezed Blair's leg.
"Which is good," Jim hurried to assure him. "Your insight and your way with witnesses have saved me a lot of footwork. If my hunch is right, this case is going to turn nasty, and I could use your help here."
A comfortable silence filled the cab of the truck, and Jim let his hand wander toward Blair's inner thigh, not missing the way the man always sat close enough for Jim to reach him. But as much as he liked touching Blair, he wanted his partner truly with him on this case even more.
Jim didn't normally like partners. Hell, he'd refused to bring cases home to the loft during his marriage. Carolyn had tried to 'help.' She'd compared his cases to ones that sat unsolved on her own desk or she'd described other cases where some detective had followed the wrong lead. He'd sit, tight-lipped and silent, as she talked and talked, and the more silent he grew, the more she filled that silence with comments that questioned his abilities.
However, Blair's quiet questions and enthusiastic tangents just didn't inspire the same frustration. Of course, a good eighty percent of what Blair said was fascinating trivia that made no sense and led to Simon quietly cursing, but the other twenty percent provided insights that Jim had learned to trust.
"It's funny," Blair said softly into the long silence.
"What's funny?"
"The police force is like this total closed community, and the other cops keep me at this distance when you're not around, like I'm some stray dog wandering into the AKC show, but you just don't feel it. I mean, I know that not every individual follows the cultural norms of his society, but you don't even seem to notice that I shouldn't be there." Blair looked over with this half-smile that whispered of admiration and confusion and devotion, and Jim let his hand wander to Blair's cheek. He stroked it once with the back of his finger.
"You belong there, Chief. You are more of a help than you can know because you never watched me spend three pointless hours trying to worm information out of a scared witness. You see someone's fear and you come in with your smile and your reassurances and you get them to open up in minutes."
"So I help?"
"Yeah, you help," Jim agreed. "You just aren't helping much on this case."
"Yeah, but there aren't any scared witnesses in there, and I'm just trying to not offend Mutt and Jeff."
Jim considered the Tacoma pair assigned to the case. Collins would definitely accept Blair; Jim knew that already. Shay would likely challenge Blair's ideas, not because Blair was a civilian but because Shay challenged everyone.
"You trust me, Chief?"
"Oh man, I think I've proved I do!" Blair instantly shot back.
"Not just like that. Do you trust me to understand alpha guys in a way that even you, with all your vast understanding of human nature, might not?"
"Okay, that's sounding like you're making fun of me," Blair complained as he crossed his arms.
"Maybe a little," Jim smiled. "But as much as you do know, you don't get alpha guys, not deep down in your gut. Collins will be fine with you giving your ideas. Shay is going to be a shithead, but that has nothing to do with you."
Blair nodded. "He doesn't like us on his territory."
"More than that, he doesn't trust us on his territory," Jim corrected him. "He's a Tacoma cop who is supposed to keep Tacoma safe, and here we come in when, as far as he can see, we have no reason to care about this case the way he does."
"That's why you brought your files," Blair said.
"Yeah, I can't ask him to share without giving him something to work with," Jim agreed. "And he's still going to be touchy because he doesn't know jack-shit about us."
"So, he'll question my theories, but it's just macho bullshit," Blair said. Jim guided the truck around a corner before glancing over. Blair smirked at him.
"He'll listen if he hears the good stuff you come up with before any crackpot theories."
"Hey!" Blair punched Jim in the arm, and Jim caught Blair's wrist, easily holding it captive as he steered with his other hand.
"If the shoe fits." Jim gave Blair a wicked smile.
"My ideas are not crackpot."
"Sure they're not," Jim teased.
"Asshole."
Since they were at a red light, Jim looked over when Blair said that, and gave his lover a slow, seductive smile. Blair froze, his face slowly reddening.
"Interesting word choice, Chief," Jim finally said when Blair appeared to have lost his words.
"Dick," Blair hissed, and immediately flinched at that word choice. Jim laughed.
"Let's go catch this Switchman first, okay, Chief?" he chuckled as he let his hand fall on Blair's shoulder.
***
Jim flipped through another page of the Tacoma reports, and slid it across the table to a strangely silent Blair. Collins leaned against the far wall, his eyes scanning the list Jim had brought with them. Not many detectives had a list of every criminal they'd ever participated in busting, but Jim had started his as a way to prove to himself that he was making a difference. After the army, he'd felt like nothing he did made an impact, not compared to what he'd done. He'd held the Chopec Pass; he'd saved the tribe.
Jim blinked as his memories of jungle and blue light filtering through the thick canopy at night were suddenly superimposed over the Tacoma interview room. The table with copies of the Switchman case blinked away into the jungle floor, and Blair's heartbeat became the drum of a native dance.
Collins made a little snort and passed the list over to Shay. The sound pulled Jim back to the present, where Collins leaned toward his seated partner and pointed to a name on Jim's list.
"You busted Riche." Shay nodded and smiled. The man looked more gangster than cop: shaved head, thin face, a tattoo crawling up his neck and brushing his jaw, so the smile was anything but nice. "We worked his coke business for two years before he moved to Cascade."
"He was slippery. He finally took a belt to his girlfriend, so we got her to turn on him… wear a wire. Busting him was a good day," Jim answered before he went back to reading one of the last witness statements from the folder. So far it seemed like Collins and Shay were living up to the promise of full disclosure, but nothing in these reports looked familiar. High end timers… dangerous for a novice to use, but much more reliable in the hands of a professional. The post office bombing had been the more serious of the two bombings, killing two with a third still in critical condition.
When Jim finished the statement of one of the injured postal workers, he pushed it across the table to Blair, who absentmindedly took it and shoved it in his "unread" pile. He continued to study witness statements and jot notes on a yellow legal pad without a word. Before getting out of the truck, Blair had pulled his hair back into a tight ponytail. With his jacket on and his hair back, he looked more like the professor Jim remembered from the day he'd gone to Rainier than the unconventional observer who'd enthusiastically followed him for the last couple of weeks.
"Nothing rings any bells," Collins growled as he flung Jim's list onto the interview table and dropped into a chair.
"I'm striking out," Jim agreed as he looked at the last three papers in the pile the Tacoma officers had made them. Collins glanced toward Blair, but he just continued scribbling on his yellow pad, silent and oblivious, two things Jim never saw in his partner.
"Can we look at the scenes?" Jim asked when the silence made it clear that Blair wasn't going to answer.
"Two bomb sites, coming up," Collins said as he pushed himself up heavily. Where Shay looked like a gangster, Collins was a strange cross between couch potato and military. He had a buzz cut and the bulky arms and wide shoulders of a body builder, but now a layer of fat disguised that physique.
"Good luck. We found a big zero on scene," Shay snorted, but he got up to follow his partner while Blair scrambled to pull all the photocopied pages into one pile. So, at least Blair was listening even if he had suddenly taken a vow of silence.
"This crackpot obviously wants me involved, so maybe the places have some connection to me specifically," Jim suggested.
"Which leads to the obvious question: why bomb us instead of going and attacking your fair city?" Shay looked straight at Jim, a challenge in his face, and Jim answered it with a stare of his own.
"You'll know as soon as I do," Jim said quietly, his voice a warning. Behind Jim, Blair scribbled on his notepad so that the pen scratches against the paper became a static that hung in the tense air.
"The post office is closest," Collins commented calmly before he headed out the door. Shay continued to lock gazes with Jim for a second, and then he turned and followed his partner. Jim rolled his eyes as the door swung closed on weighted hinges.
"Man, you make me so glad I'm not an alpha," Blair whispered so softly that Jim almost missed the words. He turned and watched Blair slip the now-thick Switchman file into the back of his legal pad, behind the paper.
"No, you'll never be alpha," Jim agreed.
Blair's startled eyes darted up to his face."Oh man, you heard that? You have ears like a bat, but I am so not suggesting that there's anything wrong with being alpha."
"Calm down, Chief. I happen to like being alpha, but I also like you not being alpha," Jim said as Blair came around the table. Watching the vibrant, ebullient personality come out from under the silence made something in his stomach unknot.
"Are you okay?" Jim asked quietly, turning so that his body blocked the exit.
"What? No, hey, I'm fine," Blair said with a smile. Jim would have pursued that train of thought since Blair clearly wasn't fine, but Collins stuck his head back in the door.
"You guys coming?" he asked. Blair fell silent.
"Yeah, right after you," Jim agreed as he considered his partner's sudden personality shift. "We'll follow in my truck if you guys want to head straight for the scene," Jim suggested, as he decided he needed a little private time with his observer.
"Will do. Take the north entrance. Less debris in the parking lot."
"Got it."
Collins left and Jim studied Blair for a second.
"Hey, aren't we going?" Blair finally asked. Jim turned so that Blair could get to the door, and as he passed, Jim rested his hand on Blair's back. Suddenly Blair was all energy, just about chasing after Collins down the hallway of the Tacoma Police Department.
Jim let his hand fall, barely avoiding snapping out something, even though he couldn't figure out why he was so damn upset at such a small gesture. Keeping his silence all the way to the truck, Jim climbed in and unlocked the door for Blair.
"Oh man, this is fascinating. There is nothing like this, except for maybe the Bath school disaster, but bombings are totally a political statement, and yet this seems personal. We so need a profiler in on this case, not that they would be able to help that much because this is breaking all the rules for traditional profiles." Blair's torrent of words broke free the moment Jim slammed the door shut.
"That's what you were taking notes on?" Jim prompted as he started the truck and guided it out of the visitors' lot.
"Totally. The discrepancies are amazing. Sure, bombings are the 'in' thing." Blair made quote marks with his fingers, the restless energy that made him bounce all returning like a rubber band that snaps back to its original shape. "The Animal Liberation Front, the Irish Republican Army, some jihadist Arabs, they use bombings to get attention, but there's no demand or cause here… just a letter to you, and man, that is weird."
"And you didn't say anything because?" Jim prompted.
"I wasn't going to go off on crazy tangents in the middle of your meeting," Blair huffed as though Jim had said something utterly ridiculous, and for a second Jim lost all words. He wouldn't go off? He wouldn't get in the middle of a meeting?
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my observer? Little guy. Mouthy. Hair like a cocker spaniel," Jim finally demanded.
"Very funny," Blair growled in a voice that didn't sound amused.
"I thought so." Jim smiled, but then he turned serious. "However, you always say what you're thinking, even when what you're thinking makes Simon chew on those cigars of his. I'm wondering what the hell happened that turned you into the shy type. Did one of them say something to you?" Jim held tight rein over his own anger at that thought.
"Chill. I can sit quietly in the corner without anything being wrong."
"Gagged and tied, maybe, but even then you'd make those little grunting sounds."
Blair glared. "Man, I'm an anthropologist."
Jim raised an eyebrow and waited for some other explanation because a quiet Blair did not exist in his universe. A driver in a Volvo slowed, searching for a turn, and Jim slid his truck into the void in front of it.
"Anthropologists are supposed to be as invisible as possible; they try to minimize their impact on the community. *I* try to minimize my impact in the community."
"Chief, don't take offense at this, but you're more like ground zero than minimal impact."
"Yeah, I know." Blair sighed unhappily. "If I thought I was going to be studying you, I totally would have taken another approach. You so would never have known I was bi, and anything even mildly counter-culture, like the job subbing for guys, would have been buried so deep you wouldn't have found it with a search and rescue team complete with bloodhounds."
"But you didn't set off to study us," Jim concluded as he connected the dots. Blair as witness and Blair as anthropologist had very different goals. Reaching out with one hand, Jim let his palm rest on Blair's thigh. "I'm glad I got to know the witness before I met the scientist."
"Man, I don't know. If I had come into the station to do a study, I would have totally tried to fit in. I would have been playing horn dog right up there with H. I would have been smoking cigars with Simon."
Jim outright laughed at that improbable image. "Not a chance, Sandburg. But I prefer you in my bed and smoke-free, so I'm glad we didn't have to find out. Right now, though, I'm a little worried about the pod-person impersonation here. It's not like you to sit on your hands on a case like this."
"Jim, we've only worked five cases together."
"Exactly. On every one of the five, you were in there stealing case notes before I even had a chance to read them and outlining potential new avenues of investigation."
"Yeah." Blair fell silent. "I'm not doing well with the observing part of observer," he said softly. Jim squeezed Blair's leg.
"Which is good," Jim hurried to assure him. "Your insight and your way with witnesses have saved me a lot of footwork. If my hunch is right, this case is going to turn nasty, and I could use your help here."
A comfortable silence filled the cab of the truck, and Jim let his hand wander toward Blair's inner thigh, not missing the way the man always sat close enough for Jim to reach him. But as much as he liked touching Blair, he wanted his partner truly with him on this case even more.
Jim didn't normally like partners. Hell, he'd refused to bring cases home to the loft during his marriage. Carolyn had tried to 'help.' She'd compared his cases to ones that sat unsolved on her own desk or she'd described other cases where some detective had followed the wrong lead. He'd sit, tight-lipped and silent, as she talked and talked, and the more silent he grew, the more she filled that silence with comments that questioned his abilities.
However, Blair's quiet questions and enthusiastic tangents just didn't inspire the same frustration. Of course, a good eighty percent of what Blair said was fascinating trivia that made no sense and led to Simon quietly cursing, but the other twenty percent provided insights that Jim had learned to trust.
"It's funny," Blair said softly into the long silence.
"What's funny?"
"The police force is like this total closed community, and the other cops keep me at this distance when you're not around, like I'm some stray dog wandering into the AKC show, but you just don't feel it. I mean, I know that not every individual follows the cultural norms of his society, but you don't even seem to notice that I shouldn't be there." Blair looked over with this half-smile that whispered of admiration and confusion and devotion, and Jim let his hand wander to Blair's cheek. He stroked it once with the back of his finger.
"You belong there, Chief. You are more of a help than you can know because you never watched me spend three pointless hours trying to worm information out of a scared witness. You see someone's fear and you come in with your smile and your reassurances and you get them to open up in minutes."
"So I help?"
"Yeah, you help," Jim agreed. "You just aren't helping much on this case."
"Yeah, but there aren't any scared witnesses in there, and I'm just trying to not offend Mutt and Jeff."
Jim considered the Tacoma pair assigned to the case. Collins would definitely accept Blair; Jim knew that already. Shay would likely challenge Blair's ideas, not because Blair was a civilian but because Shay challenged everyone.
"You trust me, Chief?"
"Oh man, I think I've proved I do!" Blair instantly shot back.
"Not just like that. Do you trust me to understand alpha guys in a way that even you, with all your vast understanding of human nature, might not?"
"Okay, that's sounding like you're making fun of me," Blair complained as he crossed his arms.
"Maybe a little," Jim smiled. "But as much as you do know, you don't get alpha guys, not deep down in your gut. Collins will be fine with you giving your ideas. Shay is going to be a shithead, but that has nothing to do with you."
Blair nodded. "He doesn't like us on his territory."
"More than that, he doesn't trust us on his territory," Jim corrected him. "He's a Tacoma cop who is supposed to keep Tacoma safe, and here we come in when, as far as he can see, we have no reason to care about this case the way he does."
"That's why you brought your files," Blair said.
"Yeah, I can't ask him to share without giving him something to work with," Jim agreed. "And he's still going to be touchy because he doesn't know jack-shit about us."
"So, he'll question my theories, but it's just macho bullshit," Blair said. Jim guided the truck around a corner before glancing over. Blair smirked at him.
"He'll listen if he hears the good stuff you come up with before any crackpot theories."
"Hey!" Blair punched Jim in the arm, and Jim caught Blair's wrist, easily holding it captive as he steered with his other hand.
"If the shoe fits." Jim gave Blair a wicked smile.
"My ideas are not crackpot."
"Sure they're not," Jim teased.
"Asshole."
Since they were at a red light, Jim looked over when Blair said that, and gave his lover a slow, seductive smile. Blair froze, his face slowly reddening.
"Interesting word choice, Chief," Jim finally said when Blair appeared to have lost his words.
"Dick," Blair hissed, and immediately flinched at that word choice. Jim laughed.
"Let's go catch this Switchman first, okay, Chief?" he chuckled as he let his hand fall on Blair's shoulder.
