Recovery: Fanfic100
Oct. 29th, 2005 12:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galRecovery: Lost Balance Found (2235 words)
Post-TSbyBS: Jim finally comes in search of his guide who fled Cascade.
Check out my progess and read previous parts HERE
036. Smell.
"Geez, Chief, your mother been visiting you lately?" Jim asked between sneezes.
"Oh man, sorry about that," Blair said as he hurried to open the patio doors despite the heat. He had the sliding glass door to his sun-baked patio half opened before it occurred to him that it was his apartment, sage smoke and all.
"No problem. You don't need to leave that open," Jim quickly added, and Blair realized the Jim was just as uncomfortable as he was. Suddenly Blair wondered whether this was such a good idea. He wasn't the same person and Jim was leaving his home and Blare could think of a thousand reasons why this was such a bad idea.
Blair stood with a hand still on the glad door handle, the warm summer air slowly drifting in through the screen door. He had no idea what to say next, and for someone who always had words, this was a new.
037. Sound.
Blair rolled over as the strange sound demanded his attention. The sound was soft and muted, unlike Mrs. Kanelli's dog which was doing its morning yap duty. Pushing himself up on one elbow, Blair listened to the sound of the series of decreasing thumps, the first one clearly audible, and then the trailing sound repeated in ever softening echoes.
The sound came again, and Blair narrowed his eyes as he tried to identify it. The third time, Blair figured out that the sound was his cheap cupboard doors bouncing closed as Jim searched the cabinets. Finally the sound of metal scraping against metal as Jim extricated a pot or a fry pan. He was fixing breakfast.
Blair had missed Jim horribly for the month they had spent apart, Jim closing the loft and finishing up his cases in Major Crimes. When Jim appeared at his door asking if he could crash on the couch, it had felt familiar and right. Now though, Blair realized that for all the similarities, it wasn't the same. Now Jim was searching an unfamiliar kitchen for one of Blair's Salvation Army pots, and Blair knew that Jim was probably raising an eyebrow at the peeling Teflon.
Well, time to see if their friendship could survive Salvation Army dishes. Blair swung his legs out of bed and wandered into the kitchen as the first rays of the sun started casting a glow against the curtains hanging in front of the sliding glass door.
"You're up early, Chief," Jim said, an egg in one hand and Blair least beat up pan in his other. "I hope I didn't wake you up."
"Nah, I usually get up and take a morning run," Blair answered, rubbing his hands through his curls.
"Yeah, I guess you do now. Never saw you as the sort for a morning run."
"People change," Blair answered, suddenly feeling the distance between them like a physical force. He crossed his arms and tried to come up with something lighthearted and familiar to say.
"Oh man, Roth got a hold of your file and he's like bouncing off walls over getting you for his department." Blair's words just made Jim look at him strangely, and Blair bit his lip.
"He seems like a good man," Jim answered slowly, and again the sound of silence overpowered their ability to talk. Jim put the pan on the stove and cracked the egg. At least now the spitting of the egg white on the hot surface interrupted the quiet.
"You want some breakfast?" Jim asked.
"Sure," Blair answered, and Jim cracked more eggs, not even asked how Blair liked his eggs. Then again, Jim already knew he liked them easy over. As the eggs cooked, Blair slipped by Jim in the tiny kitchen to put bread in the toaster.
"Where are the plates?" Jim asked.
"Above the dishwasher," Blair answered as he buttered the first set of toast and Jim handed him one plate. Jim lifted two eggs from the pan and slid them onto a plate before setting it down next to Blair. Blair added the toast and watched the toaster for the second set.
"You want jam?"
"Yeah, that'd be good. Got strawberry?"
"Yep." The last set of toast popped up as Jim handed him the second plate. Blair took both plates and headed for the table as Jim opened the refrigerator.
"Bottom shelf in the door," Blair offered and Jim snagged the jar. Jim had already found the silverware drawer, and now he grabbed forks and knives as he followed Blair to the table. Dropping the mismatched silverware on the mismatched plates, the metal against the ceramic made a familiar dull ringing sound. Blair grabbed a fork and smiled as he took his first bite of Jim-cooked eggs in nearly six months. At least some of the sounds were exactly the same even if the silverware and dishes were new.
038. Touch.
"This is interesting," Jim commented as he gestured toward the victim's desk. The man was laying in Good Samaritan hospital with multiple broken bones and a bruised liver claiming he had no idea who had jumped him in his pawn shop, but the suspects hadn't stolen anything and the victim had a bad history of carrying stolen merchandise.
Blair walked over and leaned against the edge of the counter as he looked at the second inventory list Jim had placed on the desk. Oh yeah, interesting was the word.
Blair felt the heat of Jim's hand resting on the middle of his back as Jim looked over his shoulder.
"Looks like someone had two sets of books," Jim said with that smile he got anytime he cracked a case.
"Which means someone has a whole lot of not-so-nice business partners," Blair said. Blair smiled back at Jim, but then Jim's face shut down, the righteous glee disappearing under an emotionless mask and the hand on his back yanked away. Blair turned around to try and understand why Jim had…
Right, the two crime scene guys stared at them across the room with shocked looks. Blair rolled his eyes at the idea that two guys couldn't touch without it being somehow sexual.
"You okay, man?" Blair asked as Jim walked to the other side of the desk with the cold efficiency of a robot.
"Yeah. Never meant to make the rumor mill here start up," Jim whispered so softly that Blair had to bite his tongue to avoid pointing out that he didn't have Sentinel hearing. Blair stopped at that thought and considered Jim's straight back and tight expression. How much had Jim heard with that Sentinel hearing of his?
"It bother you?" Blair asked.
"Me?" Jim looked up in surprise. "I don't care," he answered honestly. "I just thought you—" Jim stopped.
"Like I give a damn about their assumptions," Blair snorted as he rested one hand on Jim's broad back and the other on the desk as he looked at the second ledger.
039. Taste
"Oh honey, I never knew you had such good taste. I would have invited you to the club a lot sooner if I'd known you were going to bring Beefy there," Miss Rose Gentle said in a deep silky voice. Ironically, Miss Rose Gentle was not gentle, smelled nothing like a rose, and didn't medically qualify for the term "miss." Blair gave the cross dresser an amused glare.
"Oh man, you are going to get seriously messed up talking about big bad Army rangers like that," Blair pointed out.
"Chief, I somehow doubt Miss Gentle would mind a little rough housing," Jim said with a hint of amusement.
"You volunteering to find out?" Miss Gentle moved forward, her wide body slinking and shimmying as she walked.
"Oh I'm vetoing anyone finding out anything other than what can go into a report," Blair said as he stepped between the two men. Chocolate Babe and Honey Girl started laughing as they leaned against the bar in their evening dresses and fake boobs.
"Our little Frizz is all possessive. I always knew he had some nice queer genes in that solid little body," Honey Girl said playfully.
"Hey, I'm here for an investigation," Blair protested, and he could feel the heat in his face as the teasing continued. When Jim's large hand rested on his shoulder, the gesture, which Jim no-doubt intended as comfort, became almost painful in its intensity. Blair swallowed around the lump that had grown in his throat. "We need information on someone who might have been stalking down here," Blair said as he concentrated on the gay bashing case they'd been assigned and not the heat from the hand that rest familiarly and comfortably on his shoulder.
"And we do always appreciate it when you're the one to… handle… our problems," Miss Gentle winked at the word handle, and Blair crossed his arms and tried to glare. It obviously failed because the transvestite laughed.
"Some guy's been making rounds, beating up transvestites pretty seriously," Jim announced in a dark and threatening tone that sent a shiver through Blair. This was the Sentinel guarding his territory.
"Oh Honey, there are always some crack heads who think our sex lives are their business. Trust me, *my* sex life will never be any business of theirs. Now you… you're another story all together," Miss Gentle took a final step so that she was inches from Blair, but her height meant that she was eye to eye with Jim while Blair had to look up as the two locked gazes. Okay, this wasn't awkward at all.
"Sorry, I'm already taken," Jim said seriously as he stood at Blair's back. Blair had to admire the man's ability to lie well because Miss Gentle stared for a few more seconds before shrugging and backing off.
"Can't blame a girl for trying," she sniffed. "But I have to say I admire your taste in men."
Blair blushed even harder as Miss Gentle's look made it clear who she thought Jim meant. Blair opened his mouth to protest, but Jim's hand on his shoulder tightened, and Blair got the message.
"Can we just talk about the case please?" Blair pleaded without correcting the mistake.
"For you, anything." Miss Gentle said as she waved them over toward the bar where her two friends were finishing up counting the day's receipts.
040. Sight.
Damn Jim's apartment was a lot nicer than his. Of course Blair spent a chunk of his money on several charities and his bank account still grew every month, but the view of the shadowy mountains at the far edge of the city made Blair start considering nicer digs. Of course he could keep doing what he had been doing, spending most of his free time in Jim's apartment.
"Something interesting out there?" Jim asked as he came up behind Blair on the small patio.
"Oh man, those mountains. They're beautiful," Blair said as he watched the late sun set the distant slopes on fire with red and orange.
Jim didn't answer, he just leaned on the railing, a beer bottle in one hand, as he looked at the distant mountains beside Blair.
"How far can you see?" Blair asked curiously.
"Haven't tried." Jim said before falling silent, but the look of concentration on Jim's face told Blair that the Sentinel was trying now. Blair laid his hand on Jim's arm and waited.
"Can see cars driving the road up the lower slope, but I can't see make or model, just a hint of color on a moving form and the dotted green plants against the rock," Jim finally answered. Blair gazed at the distant, featureless feature with his mouth literally hanging open.
"You can see that? Oh man, that must be twenty miles away. That's—" Blair couldn't even come up with a word that matched his shock and excitement.
"Yeah, can always see farther when you're here," Jim said as he turned to go back in. The autumn air didn't have the brutal heat of summer, but Jim still preferred the air conditioning to the ninety degree weather.
"Really?" Blair asked. He followed Jim, but the expression on Jim's face made it clear that Jim didn't intend to discuss this any more.
"Long day today, you want to camp out in the guest room?" Jim asked as he tossed his beer bottle in the garbage under the sink.
"Sure," Blair said gratefully. He really didn't want to drive back to his apartment when every muscle in his body ached from chasing that damn gay-basher over the back fences of
"Sheets are in the closet," Jim said as he nodded toward the hall that led to the main bathroom.
"Thanks, man." Blair got up to get the sheets when he caught Jim's eye. The Sentinel's eyes were large and dark, the pupils dilated the way they did when Jim was trying to see something distant, only Jim was looking right at him with a strange expression. "You okay, man?" Blair asked.
"Fine," Jim answered as he came over to the couch, their shoulders brushing as Jim went to the couch and dropped down at the same time he hit the remote for the television. Blair watched Jim watch television for a good minute before he turned to go make the bed in the guest room. Some days he just didn't understand his Sentinel.
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-30 01:24 am (UTC)... I loved seeing Blair making his own way, and now that Jim is back, I can see the hurt and shyness between them, even though touches of sweet familiarity bubble up.
And omigod, you've got a rare gift for writing excellent OCs. I don't think I've ever seen one strike a false note in *any* of your fics.
You're on fire with this beautiful series!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-30 05:32 am (UTC)And hell yes I'm on fire. I love Blair.