Shadows and Siege 3
Mar. 2nd, 2008 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_gal
Two years ago, a secret covert ops organization called Section One showed up in Jim's loft to force Jim and Blair to help rescue an agent named Nikita. (~read Shadows of the Past~). Fearing that Section One would assassinate them as soon as Jim had finished helping them, Jim took his guide and ran. Jim lost. Michael, a dangerous agent, recaptured Jim and Blair, but just when Jim expected to die, Section offered them a deal. If they were available when Section called, Section would allow them to return to Cascade. Now, two years later Jim finally gets the call he has dreaded for all this time. But when Section's new head, Nikita, tells him that he's supposed to work with a traitor from Stargate Command named Makepeace to get rid of a group of invading aliens called goa'uld, Jim really, *really* wishes he could just pretend none of this ever happened.Shadows and Siege.
Sequel to Shadows of the Past
Fandoms: Primary: Sentinel. Secondary: La Femme Nikita, Stargate SG-1
Slash
Rated: ADULT?
Author's Note: You don't have to know La Femme Nikita at all if you read the first story because Jim explains the whole organization to Blair. You don't need to know Stargate to read this, but if you want background on Makepeace (a member of SG-3 who lands on Jim's team) or Tobias, you may want to read the transcript or watch the episode Shades of Gray where they are both arrested for treason.
Shadows and Siege part one
Shadows and Siege part two
Blair dropped onto one of the beds and pulled his knees up. He wanted to pace, but one pacing person per room was a rule, and Jim was definitely filling their quota, so instead he fingered the small talisman he'd worn since shortly after getting released by Section the first time around. The general panic of earlier had vanished under a very specific, very focused panic all centered around Jim. Michael and Madeline had understood that a Sentinel was instinctively driven to protect, and even the NID seemed to have figured that out, but now Nikita was ordering Jim to go in and execute sentient creatures. Even more--she wanted him to execute sentient creatures who were probably going to set off all of Jim's instincts. Section officially sucked.
Even though he wanted nothing more than to talk about all this, Blair rested his chin on his knees and waited for Jim to give some sort of sign that he had come out of this weird soldier-mode he had going. When Jim had ordered him to shut up, Blair had felt the hot flare of embarrassment and pain. Oh, he understood why Jim had done it, but it didn't actually erase how hurt he felt. And he really didn't need to give Jim a reason to repeat that bad behavior in private where Blair would have to hurt the man. No one ordered him around. Well, Section did, but that was so not the same thing.
Jim stopped near the door, his back still stiff as he cocked his head. Recognizing the stance, Blair got up and moved to Jim's side, resting his hand on Jim's back. After a second, Jim straightened up.
"Anything?" Blair asked softly.
Jim sighed heavily. "Just the sound of ordinance. We're closer to the firing range than last time," Jim said before he went over to the bed and sagged, the military stiffness that had been holding him up draining out.
"Seriously shitty," Blair pointed out as he sat next to Jim.
Jim gave him a dirty look, one that was all Jim Ellison and none of that cold soldier who had replaced Jim for a while out in that briefing room. "Shitty doesn't even cover it, Chief."
"Nope," Blair agreed. The silence felt awkward between them, and Blair wished he knew the words to use to start this conversation. Oh, he had plenty of words… things like, 'What the fuck are you thinking agreeing to this,' but Jim probably wouldn't react very well.
"I'm sorry," Jim said softly, interrupting Blair's thoughts, and before Blair could even open his mouth in surprise, Jim had reached out and pulled him close in a one-armed hug.
"Oh man, this is not your fault—except for giving them the dissertation which is totally your fault." Blair thought about that for a second. "And except where you just agreed to go on a mission to execute aliens. I mean, for all we know, Section is lying about everything and these guys are just trying to find a nice place to retire. Maybe for them Earth is like Florida and we've just been ordered to take out the alien equivalent of Ira and Edna Wiezman from Hoboken."
For a second, Jim scrubbed his face with his hand, so at least Blair knew Jim was considering what he said. After getting told to 'shut up' in the middle of the briefing, Blair hadn't been entirely sure Jim would listen to his fears. "Nikita wasn't lying, and neither was Makepeace," Jim said slowly.
"Fine. Maybe they're wrong then. This whole secret-military system they have set up totally precludes double checking conclusions against an independent third-party. Maybe their paranoia has just gotten them twisted around."
"If that's the case, then we'll have a few days on the ground to do our own recon, but Blair, we can't walk in there expecting to shake hands and make nice," Jim pointed out.
"See? See, thinking like that totally reinforces preconceived notions. We walk in there expecting them to be bad guys, and we interpret everything through this lens that says, 'Whoa, bad guy here,' and then our objectivity is shot."
"Whoa, bad guy here?" Jim repeated, the corner of his mouth tightening suspiciously.
"You're on thin ice with me right now, so if you laugh, you had better be prepared to guard your personal care products or risk finding Nair in your shampoo," Blair threatened. Unfortunately, the threat just made Jim slip from almost smile into an out-and-out smirk as he rested a hand on Blair's shoulder.
"No laughing, Chief," Jim promised in a voice that sounded a little too close to a laugh, but then his face got more serious. "But what Makepeace said about one of these things getting into his friend—he was telling the truth. If these things can take over a person's body, they're on the hostile list." Jim's jaw tightened for a second, bulging as Jim struggled with some inner emotion. It sometimes amazed Blair that other people thought Jim was so unreadable because it seemed like every emotion Jim felt showed up in his jaw. "I could handle this mission a whole lot easier if I knew you were somewhere safe," Jim eventually stopped grinding his teeth to say.
Blair snorted. Give Jim a nice controllable environment… a drug runner or a car thief ring… and Jim was just as happy to throw Blair out there with a pat on the head and an undercover assignment. But let him feel just one bit out of control, and the man reverted to 'stay in the truck.' At least Jim was predictable even if Blair had no idea what to fucking expect out of Section from one second to the next. And the violent thoughts he was having about Nikita were wrecking havoc on his karma. He fingered the crystal around his neck.
"Jim, just listen to me, man. I'm not saying that the thing in Makepeace's friend was an Ira or Edna Wiezman from Hoboken. I'm thinking that burrowing into someone else's brain without an invitation pretty much puts you in the bad guy column. But these guys who've landed here… what damage have they done? This Seth… Section said he's been here a long time, but he obviously isn't trying to take over the world or burrowing into random people's brains because that would leaked to the press. So maybe we have a few more retirees looking for a quiet place to drop out of the rat race."
"Chief, are you listening to yourself?" Jim demanded, and Blair scooted back an inch and crossed his arms. He hated it when Jim pulled this 'me-mature, you-flake' shit on him.
"Unlike some people, I actually do think about what I'm saying before it falls out of my mouth," Blair snapped back, and at least Jim had the grace to get a little flushed.
"These things burrow in brains."
"And they cause people to live longer and remember an entire alien culture."
Jim's face got that cold, hard expression that made Blair check the exits and mentally map which friends he could hang with until Jim calmed down, but that wasn't exactly an option here. "Listen Darwin, they use humans as hosts. They take over fucking bodies. They're bad guys."
"The one who took over Makepeace's friend? Absolutely. But how do we know that these guys we're going after weren't invited into the bodies they're using. Oh man, I can name you a dozen anthropology students who would be having a battle royale for the right to sign up as a host."
"What happened to this being a nightmare?"
"What happened to you listening to my opinion?"
"What?" Jim stood and started pacing again. "Look Sandburg, I am listening to your opinion, and when we're in position, I'm willing to keep an open mind. But considering they use humans as hosts and considering that they set Sentinel instincts on edge, I'm not expecting a round of Kum Ba Yah. "
"Shit." Blair dropped his head into his hands and let his hair hang down around him. Jim was right. If these things set off a Sentinel's protective instincts, then something in a Sentinel recognized them as an inherent threat, maybe even some sort of genetic memory going back to when these things were on Earth before. God, Jim wasn't the one who was losing objectivity here, he was. He was letting wishful thinking cloud his judgment.
"Chief?" Jim's hand rested on his back and Blair took several deep breaths and tried to center himself. "Blair, you know I respect your opinion, and I will keep this conversation in mind. I'll try not to kill Ira and Edna Wiez-liens."
Blair nodded and sat up, looking over at Jim who was definitely looking worried. "Oh man, I just want them to be good guys, you know?"
"It's one of your best traits, Chief, this need to see the best in people."
"Yeah, but it makes me do stupid shit. And right now, I just…" Blair took a deep breath. "I don't want to be part of an execution squad. I don't want you to be part of an execution squad."
"God, Chief." Jim made the whispered word as a prayer as he dropped onto the bed and pulled Blair into a one-armed hug. "I’m so sorry."
Blair leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes as he fought a storm of emotions all raging for his attention. "Hey, so not your fault."
"I'm the Sentinel. You're just getting dragged along for the ride, and most people would have moved out and abandoned me long before this, so I guess I owe you something… an apology, a thank you… a tune up on that piece of shit you call a car." Jim gave a crooked smile and shrugged, and Blair choked as the unexpected humor broke the mood. Jim chuckled with him, the arm around Blair's shoulder's tightening. "We'll make it through, and remember, your only part in this is to observe and record behaviors. That's what you focus on."
"While you're focusing on killing them," Blair sighed.
"Blair…" Jim stopped and cleared his throat as his arm dropped away from Blair. "This isn't exactly the first time I've done this kind of mission."
"Oh yeah, I got that," Blair nodded. "That's why they think you're different. You were covert ops before you were a Sentinel, so they think you can do the nasty work."
"And I probably can. It's a matter of doing what you have to and not thinking about it too much, but if I have to stop and discuss every step with you…" Jim stopped again, but Blair got the message clear enough. Emotionally, Jim couldn't handle having to justify his actions.
"It's just a job, right?" Blair asked. Jim patted his knee and then let his hand rest there on Blair's leg.
"I will think about what you've said, but you have to trust me to make the right call in the field."
"Oh man, you know I trust you," Blair immediately blurted. "I have followed you into some pretty screwed up situations because I totally trusted you to have some plan for getting us out. I jumped out of a helicopter in the middle of the night without a parachute because you told me to, so I think I have the trust part covered." Blair gave a shivered as he remembered that night—the night they had helped Michael rescue Nikita and had then made their unsuccessful escape attempt.
"We have a bigger problem here than trust, though," Jim said softly, and the tone made the hairs on Blair's neck stand up. "This team…"
"Completely fucked up. Oh man, they are the definition of dysfunctional."
"You caught that, huh?" Jim smiled, and Blair could almost convince himself that he wasn't scared shitless. After years, he had gotten good at lying to himself. He could almost convince himself that he didn't care about what the other cops whispered when they didn't know he was around, he could almost convince himself that excitement and not fear made him tremble when the gunfire started, and he could almost convince himself that he loved Jim like a brother when the man smiled at him like that. Self-deception, thy name is Sandburg.
"How could I not catch that? Karl Jurgen has a totally inappropriate affect, Bruhn and Knudsen seem pretty freaking co-dependent, and Makepeace hates my guts." Blair made a face and then shrugged. He worked with all kinds of people who didn't like him, and it hadn't stopped him from going to the station or speaking his mind when some officer was out of line. His job was to help the department break the cycle of victimization and abuse, and if taking an officer out into a hallway to rip him a new asshole for calling some woman a 'cheap whore' earned him a little hatred from the rank and file, he didn't really care. And honestly, he didn't care about Makepeace's issues either. "Not that I care about Makepeace hating my guts."
"I care," Jim growled. "He'll be respectful or he'll answer to me."
"You know, when I said all that stuff about you as a Blessed Protector, I was joking… you know that, right?" Blair asked.
Jim got a wry smile and reached over to ruffle Blair's hair. "Yeah, but he has to understand that you're my second-in-command. I don't like the lack of ranks here."
"Maybe I should sign those enrollment papers. Of course, then I'd be Lieutenant Sandburg, which really wouldn't help me much with Captain Makepeace, would it?"
"Traitor Makepeace," Jim pointed out. "I hope they have a more interesting dinner menu this time around," he said in a sudden change of topic that clearly ended the discussion of missions and teams. Blair sighed and wandered back to his bed as Jim thumbed through the notebook that had been left next to the phone. There were definitely more pages in the 'room service' book this time around, but Blair focused on the neat blue folders lined up on his bed in exactly the same location that the gun manuals were on Jim's bed, like Section's idea of those little mints that good hotels left on your pillow.
"Efficacy of aromahormonaltherapy for androstenol withdrawl in Sentinels."
"The Whitten effect in proximal female secondary populations."
" Estratetraenol and androstenol interactions in cross-sex Sentinel pairings."
Blair fanned the reports out so that he could read more of the titles.
"Chief, you okay?" Jim asked. "You're heart's racing."
"Oh man, I'm more than okay," Blair said as he stared down at the pile of neatly typed reports. Jim came over and glanced at the reports spread across the bed.
"Am I going to convince you to turn off the light and get any sleep before we have to report in the morning?" Jim asked wryly. Blair picked up a report and flipped open to the précis, scanning the neat conclusions drawn by scientists who'd had access to an entire population of Sentinels. Eighteen in this sample size: fifteen male and three female. Blair grabbed another and checked it. Twenty-one Sentinels" fifteen male and six female. Blair felt like a kid in a candy store.
Behind him, Jim gave an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not even going to bother asking you what you want for dinner, but you'd better believe you're going to eat something when it comes." Blair shoved most of the reports to one side and grabbed a pen as he started reading about the interactions of various pheromones when male and female Sentinels met face to face. Oh man. This… this was almost worth being kidnapped for.
"You can take the scientist out of the university, but he's still annoyingly oblivious the minute he gets his hands on a research paper," Jim sighed as he picked up to phone to order dinner.
Even though he wanted nothing more than to talk about all this, Blair rested his chin on his knees and waited for Jim to give some sort of sign that he had come out of this weird soldier-mode he had going. When Jim had ordered him to shut up, Blair had felt the hot flare of embarrassment and pain. Oh, he understood why Jim had done it, but it didn't actually erase how hurt he felt. And he really didn't need to give Jim a reason to repeat that bad behavior in private where Blair would have to hurt the man. No one ordered him around. Well, Section did, but that was so not the same thing.
Jim stopped near the door, his back still stiff as he cocked his head. Recognizing the stance, Blair got up and moved to Jim's side, resting his hand on Jim's back. After a second, Jim straightened up.
"Anything?" Blair asked softly.
Jim sighed heavily. "Just the sound of ordinance. We're closer to the firing range than last time," Jim said before he went over to the bed and sagged, the military stiffness that had been holding him up draining out.
"Seriously shitty," Blair pointed out as he sat next to Jim.
Jim gave him a dirty look, one that was all Jim Ellison and none of that cold soldier who had replaced Jim for a while out in that briefing room. "Shitty doesn't even cover it, Chief."
"Nope," Blair agreed. The silence felt awkward between them, and Blair wished he knew the words to use to start this conversation. Oh, he had plenty of words… things like, 'What the fuck are you thinking agreeing to this,' but Jim probably wouldn't react very well.
"I'm sorry," Jim said softly, interrupting Blair's thoughts, and before Blair could even open his mouth in surprise, Jim had reached out and pulled him close in a one-armed hug.
"Oh man, this is not your fault—except for giving them the dissertation which is totally your fault." Blair thought about that for a second. "And except where you just agreed to go on a mission to execute aliens. I mean, for all we know, Section is lying about everything and these guys are just trying to find a nice place to retire. Maybe for them Earth is like Florida and we've just been ordered to take out the alien equivalent of Ira and Edna Wiezman from Hoboken."
For a second, Jim scrubbed his face with his hand, so at least Blair knew Jim was considering what he said. After getting told to 'shut up' in the middle of the briefing, Blair hadn't been entirely sure Jim would listen to his fears. "Nikita wasn't lying, and neither was Makepeace," Jim said slowly.
"Fine. Maybe they're wrong then. This whole secret-military system they have set up totally precludes double checking conclusions against an independent third-party. Maybe their paranoia has just gotten them twisted around."
"If that's the case, then we'll have a few days on the ground to do our own recon, but Blair, we can't walk in there expecting to shake hands and make nice," Jim pointed out.
"See? See, thinking like that totally reinforces preconceived notions. We walk in there expecting them to be bad guys, and we interpret everything through this lens that says, 'Whoa, bad guy here,' and then our objectivity is shot."
"Whoa, bad guy here?" Jim repeated, the corner of his mouth tightening suspiciously.
"You're on thin ice with me right now, so if you laugh, you had better be prepared to guard your personal care products or risk finding Nair in your shampoo," Blair threatened. Unfortunately, the threat just made Jim slip from almost smile into an out-and-out smirk as he rested a hand on Blair's shoulder.
"No laughing, Chief," Jim promised in a voice that sounded a little too close to a laugh, but then his face got more serious. "But what Makepeace said about one of these things getting into his friend—he was telling the truth. If these things can take over a person's body, they're on the hostile list." Jim's jaw tightened for a second, bulging as Jim struggled with some inner emotion. It sometimes amazed Blair that other people thought Jim was so unreadable because it seemed like every emotion Jim felt showed up in his jaw. "I could handle this mission a whole lot easier if I knew you were somewhere safe," Jim eventually stopped grinding his teeth to say.
Blair snorted. Give Jim a nice controllable environment… a drug runner or a car thief ring… and Jim was just as happy to throw Blair out there with a pat on the head and an undercover assignment. But let him feel just one bit out of control, and the man reverted to 'stay in the truck.' At least Jim was predictable even if Blair had no idea what to fucking expect out of Section from one second to the next. And the violent thoughts he was having about Nikita were wrecking havoc on his karma. He fingered the crystal around his neck.
"Jim, just listen to me, man. I'm not saying that the thing in Makepeace's friend was an Ira or Edna Wiezman from Hoboken. I'm thinking that burrowing into someone else's brain without an invitation pretty much puts you in the bad guy column. But these guys who've landed here… what damage have they done? This Seth… Section said he's been here a long time, but he obviously isn't trying to take over the world or burrowing into random people's brains because that would leaked to the press. So maybe we have a few more retirees looking for a quiet place to drop out of the rat race."
"Chief, are you listening to yourself?" Jim demanded, and Blair scooted back an inch and crossed his arms. He hated it when Jim pulled this 'me-mature, you-flake' shit on him.
"Unlike some people, I actually do think about what I'm saying before it falls out of my mouth," Blair snapped back, and at least Jim had the grace to get a little flushed.
"These things burrow in brains."
"And they cause people to live longer and remember an entire alien culture."
Jim's face got that cold, hard expression that made Blair check the exits and mentally map which friends he could hang with until Jim calmed down, but that wasn't exactly an option here. "Listen Darwin, they use humans as hosts. They take over fucking bodies. They're bad guys."
"The one who took over Makepeace's friend? Absolutely. But how do we know that these guys we're going after weren't invited into the bodies they're using. Oh man, I can name you a dozen anthropology students who would be having a battle royale for the right to sign up as a host."
"What happened to this being a nightmare?"
"What happened to you listening to my opinion?"
"What?" Jim stood and started pacing again. "Look Sandburg, I am listening to your opinion, and when we're in position, I'm willing to keep an open mind. But considering they use humans as hosts and considering that they set Sentinel instincts on edge, I'm not expecting a round of Kum Ba Yah. "
"Shit." Blair dropped his head into his hands and let his hair hang down around him. Jim was right. If these things set off a Sentinel's protective instincts, then something in a Sentinel recognized them as an inherent threat, maybe even some sort of genetic memory going back to when these things were on Earth before. God, Jim wasn't the one who was losing objectivity here, he was. He was letting wishful thinking cloud his judgment.
"Chief?" Jim's hand rested on his back and Blair took several deep breaths and tried to center himself. "Blair, you know I respect your opinion, and I will keep this conversation in mind. I'll try not to kill Ira and Edna Wiez-liens."
Blair nodded and sat up, looking over at Jim who was definitely looking worried. "Oh man, I just want them to be good guys, you know?"
"It's one of your best traits, Chief, this need to see the best in people."
"Yeah, but it makes me do stupid shit. And right now, I just…" Blair took a deep breath. "I don't want to be part of an execution squad. I don't want you to be part of an execution squad."
"God, Chief." Jim made the whispered word as a prayer as he dropped onto the bed and pulled Blair into a one-armed hug. "I’m so sorry."
Blair leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes as he fought a storm of emotions all raging for his attention. "Hey, so not your fault."
"I'm the Sentinel. You're just getting dragged along for the ride, and most people would have moved out and abandoned me long before this, so I guess I owe you something… an apology, a thank you… a tune up on that piece of shit you call a car." Jim gave a crooked smile and shrugged, and Blair choked as the unexpected humor broke the mood. Jim chuckled with him, the arm around Blair's shoulder's tightening. "We'll make it through, and remember, your only part in this is to observe and record behaviors. That's what you focus on."
"While you're focusing on killing them," Blair sighed.
"Blair…" Jim stopped and cleared his throat as his arm dropped away from Blair. "This isn't exactly the first time I've done this kind of mission."
"Oh yeah, I got that," Blair nodded. "That's why they think you're different. You were covert ops before you were a Sentinel, so they think you can do the nasty work."
"And I probably can. It's a matter of doing what you have to and not thinking about it too much, but if I have to stop and discuss every step with you…" Jim stopped again, but Blair got the message clear enough. Emotionally, Jim couldn't handle having to justify his actions.
"It's just a job, right?" Blair asked. Jim patted his knee and then let his hand rest there on Blair's leg.
"I will think about what you've said, but you have to trust me to make the right call in the field."
"Oh man, you know I trust you," Blair immediately blurted. "I have followed you into some pretty screwed up situations because I totally trusted you to have some plan for getting us out. I jumped out of a helicopter in the middle of the night without a parachute because you told me to, so I think I have the trust part covered." Blair gave a shivered as he remembered that night—the night they had helped Michael rescue Nikita and had then made their unsuccessful escape attempt.
"We have a bigger problem here than trust, though," Jim said softly, and the tone made the hairs on Blair's neck stand up. "This team…"
"Completely fucked up. Oh man, they are the definition of dysfunctional."
"You caught that, huh?" Jim smiled, and Blair could almost convince himself that he wasn't scared shitless. After years, he had gotten good at lying to himself. He could almost convince himself that he didn't care about what the other cops whispered when they didn't know he was around, he could almost convince himself that excitement and not fear made him tremble when the gunfire started, and he could almost convince himself that he loved Jim like a brother when the man smiled at him like that. Self-deception, thy name is Sandburg.
"How could I not catch that? Karl Jurgen has a totally inappropriate affect, Bruhn and Knudsen seem pretty freaking co-dependent, and Makepeace hates my guts." Blair made a face and then shrugged. He worked with all kinds of people who didn't like him, and it hadn't stopped him from going to the station or speaking his mind when some officer was out of line. His job was to help the department break the cycle of victimization and abuse, and if taking an officer out into a hallway to rip him a new asshole for calling some woman a 'cheap whore' earned him a little hatred from the rank and file, he didn't really care. And honestly, he didn't care about Makepeace's issues either. "Not that I care about Makepeace hating my guts."
"I care," Jim growled. "He'll be respectful or he'll answer to me."
"You know, when I said all that stuff about you as a Blessed Protector, I was joking… you know that, right?" Blair asked.
Jim got a wry smile and reached over to ruffle Blair's hair. "Yeah, but he has to understand that you're my second-in-command. I don't like the lack of ranks here."
"Maybe I should sign those enrollment papers. Of course, then I'd be Lieutenant Sandburg, which really wouldn't help me much with Captain Makepeace, would it?"
"Traitor Makepeace," Jim pointed out. "I hope they have a more interesting dinner menu this time around," he said in a sudden change of topic that clearly ended the discussion of missions and teams. Blair sighed and wandered back to his bed as Jim thumbed through the notebook that had been left next to the phone. There were definitely more pages in the 'room service' book this time around, but Blair focused on the neat blue folders lined up on his bed in exactly the same location that the gun manuals were on Jim's bed, like Section's idea of those little mints that good hotels left on your pillow.
"Efficacy of aromahormonaltherapy for androstenol withdrawl in Sentinels."
"The Whitten effect in proximal female secondary populations."
" Estratetraenol and androstenol interactions in cross-sex Sentinel pairings."
Blair fanned the reports out so that he could read more of the titles.
"Chief, you okay?" Jim asked. "You're heart's racing."
"Oh man, I'm more than okay," Blair said as he stared down at the pile of neatly typed reports. Jim came over and glanced at the reports spread across the bed.
"Am I going to convince you to turn off the light and get any sleep before we have to report in the morning?" Jim asked wryly. Blair picked up a report and flipped open to the précis, scanning the neat conclusions drawn by scientists who'd had access to an entire population of Sentinels. Eighteen in this sample size: fifteen male and three female. Blair grabbed another and checked it. Twenty-one Sentinels" fifteen male and six female. Blair felt like a kid in a candy store.
Behind him, Jim gave an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not even going to bother asking you what you want for dinner, but you'd better believe you're going to eat something when it comes." Blair shoved most of the reports to one side and grabbed a pen as he started reading about the interactions of various pheromones when male and female Sentinels met face to face. Oh man. This… this was almost worth being kidnapped for.
"You can take the scientist out of the university, but he's still annoyingly oblivious the minute he gets his hands on a research paper," Jim sighed as he picked up to phone to order dinner.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 04:44 am (UTC)I don't know how I missed you posting Part 2, but I just read it and this part and this is such a good series. I get so involved in the story as I'm reading.
Can't wait for more. =>}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 04:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 05:38 am (UTC)Leave it to Blair to find something positive. Wondering how they'll work out the pecking order in such a short time in the group?
no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 01:21 pm (UTC)I think that's what Jim is worried about. This is a screw team, but it's Blair's nature to be optimistic (and a little manipulative and secretive, but no one's perfect)
no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 03:35 pm (UTC)What I really like about your writing of these two (apart from the fact that you always write a cracking story!) is that I genuinely feel like I know these people. There's a real emotional honesty behind them both, even when they're showing their worst traits. They understand each other so well even as they're driving each other up the wall and it makes for a much richer reading experience.
As you can gather, I'm still enjoying this very much.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-05 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-04 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-05 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-05 06:01 am (UTC)The one person pacing per room quota made me smile from the start, it seemed such a Blair idea. And Blair's liberal instincts creating him problems felt like the kind of agonising he would do. I loved the 'duh' moment when he made the connection about Jim's instincts. Even after all this time, although the personal trust is there, it's not absolute. Blair will always think things through and question them and that also feels very right for him.
I wonder if he'll discover some important clues in those books (yes, I did note the passing comment Nikita made about them not bonding yet, so I would be willing to bet the selection of texts was made carefully). Really looking forward to more, when you're ready.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-09 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-06 12:36 am (UTC)I can't wait to read more.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-09 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-26 06:51 pm (UTC)You've hooked me into reading the next chapter, even though I've got work to do.
Laurie