The Sentinel

Title: Tell Me  

Author/pseudonym: Tinnean  

Fandom: The Sentinel  

Pairing: Blair Sandburg/Jim Ellison  

Rating: FRAO  

Disclaimer: They still belong to Pet Fly and Sci Fi.  

Status: new/complete  

Date: 9/13/05  

Series/Sequel: no

Summary: Jim wants to know about Blair's childhood.  

Warnings: Totally AR. Alex Barnes never entered their lives, TSbBS never happened, and Blair got his doctorate without revealing Jim's identity.  

Notes: This first appeared in Many Faces of Blair 4. This is taking place around '98. Many thanks to Gail, who unfailingly does a marvelous beta.

Tell Me

Part 1

When I'd moved in with Jim Ellison, back when my apartment had been blown up by the drug manufacturers next door, I'd been upfront with him and told him I swung both ways.  

"Not a problem, Chief. So do I."  

"Cool. Wanna screw?"  

He'd laughed, no doubt thinking I was being a wise ass, tugged on a lock of my hair that had somehow freed itself from the thin leather cord at the back of my neck, and shown me to the room under the stairs that led up to the loft.  

"It's kinda small. Sorry, Chief."  

"No, it's fine." And it had been. I'd slept in huts the size of a postage stamp, where I hadn't slept alone – and not in the fun sense of the word. "Where's… uh… where's your bedroom, Jim?"  

He pointed toward the ceiling. "I'm right above you, Chief."  

For a brief amount of time I fantasized about having him in his bedroom. Of him having me in my bedroom.  

Then I shrugged those heady visions aside, because the truth of the matter was, as fine as that buff body was, I wanted to study him – as a possible Sentinel and subject for my dissertation – more.  

Only – things changed. In the midst of all the tests and narrow escapes and 'Stay in the truck, Sandburg,' we became friends. I never let on that I hadn't been kidding about sleeping with him. How could I tell him his best friend seriously had the hots for him and would jump his gorgeous bones at the slightest hint of interest?  

Jim might have told me he was bisexual, but in the time I'd known him, he'd only dated women. Psychotic women for the most part, but women nonetheless.  

Besides, I'd done that once – told a friend that I loved him. He'd gotten a sickly look on his face, and afterwards he'd gone out of his way to avoid me.  

I could live without Jim as my lover if I had to, but I couldn't live without him as my friend, so I kept my dick behind my fly and thought cold thoughts every time he came near me.  

Which was often, now that I thought of it. He was always rubbing my shoulders or slinging his arm around them; patting my arm or resting his palm on the small of my back. //Just a little lower…// But of course his hand never traveled low enough to rest on my butt.  

//The Arctic , Sandburg,// I reminded myself. //Icebergs. Snow. Your reaction to Mary Louise Johnson's kissing you in sixth grade.//  

I'd turned in my diss, referring to Jim only as Subject X, and I was awarded my doctorate in anthropology. I was Dr. Blair Sandburg.  

The gray Volvo was gone. Parked in front of 852 Prospect was a Thunderbird convertible. Jim's jaw dropped when he saw it, and he raised an eyebrow at the taxi cab yellow exterior.  

"Graduation gift." I shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin.  

"From yourself, to yourself? I haven't been charging you enough rent." He laughed and handed me a card that contained a gift certificate to the local bookstore where he knew I browsed but seldom bought.  

"Thanks, Jim." I didn't tell him the car was really from family. I never talked about my family. "I… uh… I guess maybe I'd better start looking for a place of my own?" In spite of myself, it came out a question. I didn't want to leave.  

"Take your time, Chief. There's no rush. I've… "  

"Please don't say you've grown accustomed to my face!"  

"All right, I won't. But I have gotten used to having you around."  

So I took him at his word, and here it was a year later, there were still occasional ride-alongs, and I was still at 852 Prospect.  

****  

Spring had arrived in Cascade.  

It was a warm, lovely day, and I looked over the young men and women who sat – fidgeted – in the lecture hall.  

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," I grinned in understanding, "it's obvious we'll get nothing further done today. Go home, knock yourselves out this weekend, and on Monday, I'll expect all this to be out of your system."  

"Thanks, Dr. Sandburg."  

"Just remember. We'll be covering chapters 46 to 50 in your text."  

They groaned in unison, but it was only a matter of minutes before I stood alone in my empty lecture hall.  

It wasn't just my students whose thoughts were turning toward love, lightly or otherwise.  

My own thoughts turned wistfully to my roommate, James Ellison, Detective of the Year, Sentinel of the Great City , and object of my unrequited affection.  

I really wished he'd look at me and see the lover and not just the friend.  

I sighed and stuffed my notes and papers into my briefcase, then jogged to the instructor's parking lot where the T-Bird was waiting. This was my last class, and I'd already locked up my office, which was no longer the cubbyhole it had been when I'd first come to Rainier .  

I slid my briefcase across the front seat, settled myself behind the wheel, and switched on the ignition. Santana whispered from the speakers. Jim had left the CD in the player the last time he rode with me.  

I let the music play and put the T-Bird in gear. Time to go grocery shopping. The night before I'd made a list, and I drove to the supermarket and picked up what we'd need for the coming week.  

Jim wasn't home – his blue truck wasn't parked in its usual spot – so when I let myself into the loft, I sang out, "Honey! I'm home," and snickered at my silliness. I'd never do something like that when Jim was around. He'd be able to figure out I was serious.  

Whistling softly through my teeth, I put the groceries away. Once that was done, I took a shower, changed into jeans and a white tee shirt – it was too warm for the flannel shirt I would normally wear – and got dinner started.  

The front door opened. "Hey, Jim." I set the brown sauce on the back burner to keep warm. It usually went with beef and broccoli, but I liked the way it worked with egg foo yung.  

"Chief." He tossed his keys into the basket by the door and took off his jacket.  

"Bad day?" I set about blanching the veggies that would go into the filling.  

He shrugged and hung his jacket on the hook.  

"Listen, Marcel Marceau, if something is bothering you, tell me."  

I half-expected him to growl, "Don't fuss over me like a mother hen," but he didn't.  

What he did say was, "Why, Chief?"  

"Excuse me?"  

"Why, if something is bothering me, should I tell you?"  

"We're … we're best friends."  

"Is that all?" His expression seemed resigned.  

"Jim?"  

"Never mind." He grinned, and I realized I must have been mistaken. "Are we having beef and broccoli for dinner? I was kind of in the mood for…"  

"I know. Egg foo yung." He was always in the mood for that. "That's what I'm making."  

"You are?" A warm smile lit his face. "Thanks, Chief. Look, I've got to take a shower."    

"Go ahead. This should be ready by the time you're done." I watched the bunch and flow of the muscles in his ass and thighs as he climbed the stairs to the loft, and then pretended I hadn't been watching as he came back down with clean clothes.  

****  

By the time the bathroom door reopened, I was setting a bottle of beer beside each of our places on the table. Jim's hair was damp, and a dab of scentless shaving cream was just under his ear.  

"Hold still." Using that as an excuse to touch him, I leaned forward and wiped it off with my thumb.  

"Thanks, Chief." He sat down, and inhaled deeply. For a second I was afraid he would scent how much I wanted him, but "Y'know something?" he said around a forkful of egg foo yung, "You make the best Chinese food I've ever eaten."  

"Glad you like it, Jim." I was always gratified when he said something like that. "So. I gather the citizens of Cascade are safe for another day?"  

"Yeah. No serial killers, no drug dealers, no wise-guys from the East Coast."  

"Now why can't we have a day like that when I'm riding along?"  

"You're a danger magnet, Chief." He laughed at my affronted expression. "How's teaching going?"  

"I had to dismiss class early. The only thing on their minds was sex."  

"Spring will do that." He took a swallow of beer, and I watched his throat ripple and had to swallow myself.  

"Tell me about it."  

"Y'know, Chief, I've always loved spring. I've just never had much luck in the romance department in spring."  

"You, Casanova?"  

He looked pensive, and I wondered who was in his thoughts. I wished it might have been me.  

"Well, it's spring once again, Jim. Maybe you'll have better luck this year."  

His blue eyes seemed to study me –was there something on my face my napkin had missed? – but then the corner of his mouth curled in a rueful smile. "Maybe." He began to talk about a police conference in Washington , DC that was scheduled for the third week in July. "I'd like you to come with me, Chief."  

"My last class of the summer session will be over by then, so it shouldn't be a problem. Thanks for asking me."  

"Who else would I ask?"  

"Jim?"  

But his face was hidden by the upraised beer bottle.  

****  

Dinner was finished, and the skillets and pots and dishes were washed and put away.  

I went into the living room and turned on the TV. The Jags were playing at home, so the game was blacked out, but I was pretty sure I could find another basketball game on one of the other stations.  

Jim turned off the TV. "Sit, Chief."  

"Not Rin Tin Tin here, smart guy."  

He grinned and tugged a lock of my hair. "Humor me."  

So I took my usual seat on the loveseat.  

"On the couch, please, Blair?"  

I sank down into a corner of the couch and watched him as he went to the fridge. I fought down the urge to start biting my nails.  

Jim took a couple of beers, returned to the living room and handed me one, and made himself comfortable, not at the other end, where he usually sat, but right beside me. He crossed his legs, his right ankle on his left knee, and rested an arm along the back of the couch.  

"So, what did you want to talk about?" //Please, not how the house-hunting has been going!//  

"How long have we been living together?"  

*Fuck*. "Three years," four months, twenty-two days, six hours and some odd minutes. My mouth was dry, and I regretted that second helping of egg foo yung that I'd had. I twisted off the bottle cap. "Have I overstayed my welcome?"  

"What do you… Jesus, *no*! I like you staying in the loft with me."  

The knot in my stomach unraveled. "I'm not following you then."  

"You've lived here with me for more than three years, and yet I don't know anything about you, Chief." He held up a hand. "Oh, I know your favorite color and what food you'll order at Bonne Nourriture or Buon Alimento or Nakatomi's Sushi, Chops, and Ale House. I know you'll have my back and that without your help my senses would have driven me into the nuthouse, but I don't know anything about Blair Sandburg."  

"Sure you do, Jim." I grinned and opened my mouth.  

"Don't give me a story about a time you were somewhere in the world." He uncrossed his legs, shifted closer, and rested his hand on my knee. "Tell me something real."  

"Everything's real, Jim. Everything I've ever told you. I'm an open book."  

"Are you?" His expression was tired. "Everything is light and amusing – and keeps me at a distance. I don't want that, Chief."  

I curled a leg under me and raised the beer to my lips, but it was more to give me a moment to gather myself. It wasn't that Jim had never seemed interested in my past. I'd learned from Naomi: keep your cards close to your chest, and never let 'em see the real you.  

"What do you want, Jim?"  

"Tell me about you. About when you were a little boy. Did you always want to be an anthropologist? Did you ever want to run away from home and join the circus? When did you realize you were bi? What was it like when you kissed your first girl? Your first boy? Tell me about… everything."  

"I'm not Scheherezade, Jim." I shifted uncomfortably.  

"Please, Chief?" The motion of his hand on my knee was almost a caress, and I swallowed and surrendered.  

"Where do you want me to start?"  

His smile was relieved, which puzzled me. "Do you have family?"  

I made an exasperated sound. "Everyone has family."  

"Tell me." His hand moved to my thigh, and his thumb rubbed circles on it.  

"All right, Jim, but I hope you won't be sorry."  

"I won't be sorry, Chief."  

That remained to be seen. I took a breath. "Naomi was about 20 when she became pregnant. She realized right away that it wasn't the flu, anxiety over her course load, or… something else behind her being 'late'. She went to see her family, and after a rancorous exchange, she packed her bags and left college – and her family – behind."  

"Kind of drastic, don't you think?"  

"Jim, as far as her family was concerned, there never was a sexual revolution. They were the first generation to be born in America , and they were ashamed of her. Of me."  

"Chief, I'm sorry…" His thigh pressed against mine, and the warmth radiated through his jeans and into my skin. I shivered.  

"No, it's okay. Things are better now. They've tried to make it up to both of us. The T-Bird was a gift from Aunt Esther and Uncle Jacob. I'd have refused it – do you know what they go for, Jim? – but Naomi called me and told me about it. Asked me to act surprised and accept it. Things have been rough for them. Not financially, they've always been 'comfortable,' but emotionally … Very rough, Jim."  

I thought about how things had gone wrong for them seven years before. I squeezed the bridge of my nose, cleared my throat, and continued.  

"Naomi's journey west ended in Hollywood . She found work on the Warners' lot, and I was born seven months later. By the time I was a couple of months old, she was working full-time as an extra.  

"The problem was, there was no one to watch me, so she took me along. People had often thought she was a bad mother because she'd had to do that."  

I studied Jim's eyes, but all I saw was interest and understanding, and I blew out a relieved breath.  

~~~~Aunts and Uncles and Cousins, Oh, My!  

Before anyone knew it, I was in movies too. I was the baby in the stroller the female lead stopped to coo over, or the toddler the hero rescued in the nick of time.  

There were stills and screen footage, but I had no real memory of that. What I did remember was Naomi's face as she answered the telephone in our little bungalow.  

"Esther? Why are you calling?" There was a pause, and then, "Oh, no!" Tears slid down her cheeks. "We'll be there as soon as we can." She hung up the phone, dropped into a chair, and buried her face in her hands.  

"Don't cry, Mama." I petted her arm.  

She dried her cheeks with her palms. "We have to go home, little man." I thought *this* was home. "Your Nana is dying."  

"I have a Nana?"  

Naomi had never talked to me about the family. I hadn't known about her mother, or her sister, Esther, or Esther's husband, Jacob, and son, Daniel. And I was too young to question how her sister had gotten our phone number.  

She stroked her hand over my hair. "I wish there was time to get you a haircut. Esther is sure to… Never mind. There are more important things to do."  

She called to get us tickets on a jet, then sat down and began to write something on a piece of paper. Once that was done, we went to the studio.  

"Listen, toots," the man behind the desk, who I'd called Uncle Joe, took the paper she handed to him. "You don't want to turn in your notices. Sleep on it, okay? You're shaping up to be a pretty damned good extra. Get things settled back East, then contact me, okay?"  

"Okay, Joe. Thanks. You're a good friend." She went around the desk and kissed his cheek, then ran out, tugging me along after her.  

Back at our bungalow, she packed our bags, with me helping as much as an almost-three-year-old could.  

We took a jet into JFK. Naomi stood at the curb outside the terminal with our luggage around us and put two fingers into her mouth. The shrill whistle got us a taxi, and she smiled down at my wide-eyed expression. "Yes, I'll teach you how to do that, little man."  

The nice taxi driver drove us to the attached house that was Nana's and helped us carry the luggage into the front hall.  

A woman who looked like Naomi, only older and not as soft, stood there watching.  

"Am I in time, Esther?"  

"Mama is still alive."  

Naomi handed the taxi driver the fare. "Thank you."  

"Good luck to you, ma'am." He smiled at Naomi, tipped his hat, and walked out.  

"This is hardly the time, Naomi. Could you not flirt even once?"  

"He was just being nice to me, Esther." She helped me take my jacket off. It was cooler here than in California .  

"That's the trouble with you. Too many men like being nice to you." She looked down at me. "He needs a haircut. Are you going to tell us who his father is?"  

I was surprised to hear that question. No one in Hollywood had asked or seemed to care.  

"What difference does it make? Blair is mine, and that's all there is to it."  

"Aunt Chanah will want to know. So will Aunt Deborah and Aunt Judith."  

"It's none of their business."  

I tightened my grip on Naomi's hand. "Who are they, Mama?"  

"They're women who are friends of Nana, so we call them 'aunt' out of respect." Her tone of voice told me she really didn't have any respect for them.  

A tall boy walked in. His hair was short and curly, and he had blue eyes. "Aunt Naomi." He kissed her cheek, then crouched down and smiled at me.  

"I'm Daniel. I'm your cousin."  

"I'm Blair. We came from California on a jet. It snowed in the mountains, and we had to fly over the storm. There was a lot of turbu… turbulence, Mama?"  

"That's right, baby."  

"He speaks quite well." Aunt Esther looked surprised.  

"I'm almost three." I held up three fingers.  

"Well," Daniel laughed, "I'm almost fourteen."  

"That's this," I held up one hand, "and this," I held up the other, " and this much more!" I took the first hand down and folded the thumb of my left hand.  

"He's quite intelligent."  

Naomi's mouth tightened. "That surprises you, Esther?"  

Aunt Esther's mouth tightened too. "Well, you were always very clever, but who knows what kind of IQ his father has?"  

"Let it go, Esther."  

Why did Aunt Esther want to make my Mama cry? Naomi put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. She could tell from the expression on my face that I was about to cross the floor and kick her sister.  

A man just a bit taller than my cousin Daniel came in. "Esther… Naomi. I'm so glad you got here in time. Is this Blair? Hello, young man." We shook hands. "You'd better go in, the doctor doesn't think it will be much longer."  

"Daniel, stay with Blair. It isn't good for him to come into Nana's room."  

"Esther, Mama never got to see him."  

"And whose fault was that?"  

"Esther. This is a sad time." Uncle Jacob took his wife's arm and stroked it. "If Naomi thinks Blair should see his Nana, then let him."  

"But she…" Aunt Esther's face crumpled and tears began to trickle down her cheeks.  

"Come, my dear." He slid an arm around her waist and led her down the corridor and into a room.  

I looked up at Naomi. "Doesn't Nana want to meet me, Mama?"  

"Of course she does, baby."  

"I'll wait here if you don't mind, Aunt Naomi?" My cousin Daniel looked sad, and I noticed how red his eyes were.  

"All right, Daniel." She took my hand. "Let's go."  

I looked at him over my shoulder. "Is he sad because Nana is going to die, Mama?"  

"He's going to miss her very much."  

"I'll miss her too," I announced as we entered the darkened room. It smelled funny, and I clung to Naomi's hand. "Don't be afraid, Mama. I'm right here."  

"That's my little man. Now, I'm going to say hello to my Mama."

I tightened my grip. "Me too."  

She picked me up and carried me to the bedside.  

From behind us I heard, "Humph! Just like a bad penny."  

Naomi's step faltered, and then she continued, her head held high. I realized that was directed at my mother. "My Mama is *not* a bad penny. You old…"  

"Hush, Blair."  

I subsided, but gave the woman a glare to let her know I was keeping an eye on her.  

"Mama, it's Naomi."  

The woman in the bed was gaunt, and her face was lined with pain. A thick, white braid lay over the blanket that covered her to her neck. The hairs that escaped lay in wispy curls around her face. At Naomi's words, she opened her eyes. They were blue and faded.  

"Naomi? You've come home?"  

"Yes, Mama."  

"You've brought the boy with you?"  

"How did you… Yes, Mama."  

"I was sorry you didn't stay."  

Naomi's lips folded into a thin line, but she didn't challenge her mother's words.  

"Bring him closer. I want to see him."  

I wriggled out of Naomi's arms and walked up to the bed. "Hello, Nana. I'm sorry you're dying."  

She gave a wheezing laugh. "So am I, little man."  

"Mama calls me that."  

"Does she? I used to call Adam that."  Her expression became very sad. "Your Uncle Adam. He was such a good boy, such a loving boy..."  

I glanced around the room, seeing only one other man at the other side of the bed. "Are you my Uncle Adam?" I asked him.  

He frowned at me, his eyebrows meeting in a point above his nose, and then looked past me.  

"No, little boy. I'm Dr. Silverstein."  

I didn't like the way he called me 'little boy'.  

"Your Uncle Adam died a few years ago. In Viet Nam ." I wondered where this place was that Aunt Esther said like it was a naughty word.  

"All of you leave. You, too, Ethan," Nana said to the doctor. "I wish to talk to my daughter, Naomi."  

I climbed onto the bed and kissed her cheek. "It was nice to meet you, Nana."  

"Yes, yes." Her eyes closed.  

"Mama!" Aunt Esther rushed to the bedside.  

"Where's Naomi?" The voice was querulous. Aunt Esther reared back as if she'd been slapped.  

"I'm right here, Mama." Naomi sat down on the bed and took the frail hand.  

The women and the doctor left the room, grumbling.  

"They think I can't hear them," Nana said petulantly. "I'm not dead yet!"  

"No, Mama."  

"Come along, Blair." Uncle Jacob offered me his hand, and we walked into the kitchen. Only my cousin Daniel was in there. "Daniel, would you mind keeping an eye on Blair? I have to see to your mother."  

"Sure, Papa." He watched as his father left the room, then smiled at me. "Are you hungry?" He put a plate on the table.  

"Yes, but…" I tugged on his sleeve and he bent down. "I have to use the bathroom," I whispered.  

He took my hand and led me down a different corridor. "Do you need some help?"  

"No, thank you."  

"Okay." He put a step-stool by the sink. "So you can wash your hands."  

I took care of business, washed my hands, and dried them on a soft towel.  

"Ready, Blair?"  

"Yes, Daniel." We went back into the kitchen, and he lifted me onto a chair. "Thank you."  

He sat beside me and neatly cut up the toasted cheese sandwiches he had made, and we began to eat.  

"What's that?" I pointed to a gold chain I could see through his opened collar.  

"It's a Star of David. See?" He pulled it out. "This was Uncle Adam's. After he was killed in the war, Mama said I should have it."  

"It's very pretty," I said politely, and went back to eating my sandwich.  

~~~~  

Jim tipped his bottle to his lips. "This beer has gone flat. Do you want another one?"  

"No, I'm good, Jim." I leaned forward and put my half-empty bottle on the coffee table.  

"You're very good." He set his bottle down beside mine and relaxed back on the couch.  

"What about your beer?"  

"Maybe later." He angled his body toward me and ran his fingers over my ear. "Keep talking."  

"Aunt Esther was – Aunt Esther," I shrugged, "and Uncle Jacob was a good man, Jim, but Daniel – he was my favorite of all the family. In spite of the age difference, he was wonderful to me. A lot of times when Naomi would leave town… "  

"Where'd she go?"  

"Sometimes out to Hollywood for a small role, sometimes just away. She never really talked about it. While she was gone, I would stay with the only family I had. Of course Aunt Esther wasn't thrilled having me stay in her house, but I loved it. I got to sleep in a big boy's room with Daniel. He would pick me up from school or take me to the library. He got into a fight once because some of the bigger boys were picking on me. I needed a haircut again." Jim laughed softly, and I grinned in return. "I threw down my schoolbag and jumped on the back of the one who was trying to get behind Daniel and pin his arms. I accidentally drove my heel into his nuts…" I whistled innocently.  

"What a pair!" Jim laughed louder this time. "I'd like to meet him, Chief."  

I blinked and looked away. "He was killed in the Gulf War."  

"Jesus, Blair! I'm sorry." He pulled me against him, and I let myself enjoy that closeness for as long as I felt I could allow, which wasn't as long as I would have wanted.  

"Thanks, Jim. I still miss him." I straightened and cleared my throat. "Anyway… "  

To my surprise, Jim pulled me back against him. "You loved him very much."  

"I did. He made sure I had this." I reached into the neck of my tee shirt and pulled out the gold Star of David.  

"It's good that you have something to remember him by."  

"Yes." I could feel the burn of tears in my throat. This time when I straightened, Jim let me go. I went back to what I'd been saying. "Anyway, I'd heard from Naomi…"  

"Did she really tell you Timothy Leary was your father?"  

"No." The topic had come up one afternoon in the bullpen at Major Crimes. I couldn't even remember how it had come up. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Did you really think…"  

"Yeah. Well, *they* all did. Knowing you, I had my doubts."  

"I'll bet. I got that attitude from Naomi."  

"You've never said much about her."  

"No. Force of habit. Aunt Esther never wanted me to talk about my mother when she was away. Naomi was a pistol, Jim. She would have been a Freedom Rider, but Aunt Esther told their father, and Naomi was grounded for the rest of the school year. She was only about 14 then, but she looked old enough to ride the buses. When she grew older, she burned her bra, spent the summer of love out in San Francisco . She protested the war, even more so after… "  

I was surprised at the unexpected emotion that caught me in the chest. Once again I found myself up against Jim's body. //Just this once,// I promised myself.  

Jim's fingers carded through my hair, grounding me. After a few minutes of enjoying it, I took up the thread of what I'd been saying.  

"Well, anyway, she came back to the East coast and went to Cornell University , majoring in political science of all things. That was where she met my father. My father. It's been a long time since anyone's asked about him, but back then, the three furies…"  

"The three furies, Chief?"  

"The women who had been my Nana's friends, Chanah, Deborah, Judith. Nosey biddies. They were always trying to find out who my father was. Sometimes she'd tell them John V. Lindsay – he was mayor around the time I was conceived – or Robert Redford – Judith had seen him in a Twilight Zone episode and was impressed. But one day Naomi got really pissed and told them I was Carl Sagan's lovechild."  

"Carl Sagan, Chief? 'Billions and billions of years ago… '" Jim's laughter was a warm puff of air in my ear.  

"Yeah." //Just a little longer.// And I began to tell him about the day I'd decided to go ask Carl Sagan if he was my father.  

~~~~Are You My Papa?  

I was sitting on the front stoop of the brownstone in Brooklyn where Naomi had found us an apartment, elbows on my knees and chin cupped in my hand, watching the traffic pass and musing about the information I had discovered.  

An old jalopy slid to the curb, and the engine turned off. It was my cousin Daniel. He could have taken the subway here, but he'd gotten his driver's license a few months before, and since then he'd driven anywhere at the drop of a hat.  

"Hi, birthday boy!" Daniel stepped onto the sidewalk. He was carrying a present under his arm.  

"Hi, Daniel."  

"What's up, short stuff?" He sat beside me on the stoop. He was about six feet tall now, and I hoped one day I'd be as tall as he was.  

"Nothing."  

"A face like that doesn't look like nothing." He put an arm around my shoulder. "What's bothering you? Is it my mama?"  

I shook my head. Aunt Esther didn't approve of Naomi or the way she was raising me, and she never lost an opportunity to make that apparent – Naomi was starting to talk about leaving New York again, taking me with her – but this time, Aunt Esther had had nothing to do with my unsettled feelings.  

"Well, it's your birthday, and you're looking very sad. No one should look sad on their birthday, Blair. Maybe this will cheer you up!"  

I took the flat, rectangular package and unwrapped it. It was a large book with glossy pictures and beautiful drawings detailing the progress of the many tribes of man from the earliest time. I ran careful fingertips over the gold-edged pages.  

"I wrote something in it for you on the flyleaf. Do you want me to read it to you?"  

"I can read it, Daniel." I turned to it.  

"It's script."  

"I can read it. It says, 'To Blair, my favorite person in the whole, wide world. I'd think you were terrific even if you weren't family, short stuff. Love, ~Your cousin, Daniel.' You're my favorite person too, Daniel!" I held onto the book with one hand and hugged him. "This is perfect! Thank you!"  

"The woman at the bookstore tried to talk me out of it when I told her it was for my favorite cousin's seventh birthday, but … "

"I'm glad you didn't listen to her!" I hugged the book, more precious because of the inscription.  

"So am I. Now. Suppose you tell me what's bothering you."  

"Daniel… " He was watching me so solemnly, so patiently. "You promise you won't tell anyone?"  

"Cross my heart and hope to die."  

I blew out a breath. "I found a postcard in the Bible Nana left Naomi."  

Daniel gave me a funny look. "You call Aunt Naomi by her name?"  

I shrugged. "She doesn't mind. Anyway, the postcard was from Ithaca , NY . It was postmarked August, 1969. Cornell University is in Ithaca ."  

"If I remember correctly, Aunt Naomi was going to Cornell."  

"Yes. And I was born the following May." Daniel's expression became confused. "I'm seven, Daniel, not stupid. I know how many months it takes to make a baby."  

"You do, don't you? You think your papa went to Cornell, too?"  

"I think my papa may be Carl Sagan."  

"Aw, Blair, you know Aunt Naomi likes to kid people like that." Daniel had been there when Naomi had told Aunt Chanah, Aunt Deborah, and Aunt Judith, and he'd nearly fallen through the doorway from laughing so hard.  

"But the postcard, Daniel."  

"Doesn't mean anything."  

"I don't care! I'm going!"

"Excuse me?"  

"I'm going up to Ithaca ," I said with a little less heat, "and I'm going to talk to Professor Sagan."  

"How will you get there?"  

"I have enough money. Nana left me some, and there's a little left from when I was in the movies. I'll buy a bus ticket."  

"I don't think this is a good idea, Blair."  

But I did. I could picture it in my mind. I'd tell Naomi that Daniel had asked me to stay over at his house. She'd be surprised, but because Aunt Esther was the big sister she had always looked up to, she'd let me go.  

Instead of going to the Bronx where Aunt Esther, Uncle Jacob, and Daniel lived, I'll go to the bus station and buy the ticket to Ithaca .  

"What will happen when you get there, short stuff?"  

I realized I'd been talking out loud. I did that sometimes.  

"Well, a lady will answer the door." I'd seen movies, and brilliant professors always had a lady who answered their door.   

"'Good afternoon, ma'am,' I'll say. 'Is this Professor Sagan's house?'  

"'Yes.'  

"'Please, may I see him?'  

"'You're too young to be one of the Professor's students.' She won't be sure, but I'll give her my best smile, … "  

"The one Aunt Naomi says is a heart stealer?" Daniel grinned and ruffled my hair.  

I pretended I hadn't heard him. "… and then she'll say, 'Of course you may. Come with me.'  

"I'll follow her into the study. It'll be brightly lit with the afternoon sun."  

"Oh, you'll get there by afternoon?" Daniel covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.  

"Well, then, the morning sun."  

"Or maybe moonlight?"  

I scowled at him. "Who's this happening to, anyway?"  

"Sorry, short stuff." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."  

"Are you done teasing me?"  

He nodded, trying to look innocent, but he didn't fool me. It was okay, though. I didn't really mind if Daniel teased me. He was my favorite in the whole family, in the whole world, more even than Naomi, although I'd never, ever tell her that. It would make her feel bad.  

I opened my mouth, then shut it again. "Where was I?"  

"In the study."  

"Okay. So the lady will say, 'Excuse me, Professor. You have a visitor.'  

"He'll be standing in front of a blackboard, his sweater and pants covered with chalk dust. 'Yes?' And he'll turn. He'll have dark hair like mine, Daniel, and kind eyes."  

"Of course, he'll have kind eyes." Daniel's arm came around my shoulder, and I leaned into him.  

"Then I'll introduce myself. 'How do you do, sir? My name is Blair Sandburg.'  

I deepened my voice. "'How do you do, Blair Sandburg? What may I do for you?'  

"And then, Blair?" Daniel's arm tightened.  

"And then I'll say, 'Please, sir, are you my papa?' And he'll say… "  

"Blair." Naomi was sitting on the steps above us.  

Uh oh. "How much did you hear, Mama?"  

"Enough, baby. Come sit by me." When I was settled beside her, she stroked my hair. "Oh, dear, you do need a haircut." She sighed and looked at me thoughtfully. "Professor Sagan isn't your father. I think it's time I told you about the man who was."  

"Aunt Naomi, do you want me to leave?"  

"No, Daniel. You should hear about him too. His name was Jeff Hardy, and he was a friend of your Uncle Adam. They shared a room in their fraternity house, and I met him when Nana and I went to Cornell to visit Adam."  

"A Christian, Aunt Naomi?"  

"We didn't talk about religion," she said dryly. "Jeff was handsome in a rugged kind of way. He had blond hair, and the bluest eyes. He would come to Ithaca to see me on the weekends, or I would take the train down on Friday night and meet him in the Village." For a little bit she was lost in the memory of my father.  

"Why isn't our last name the same as his, Mama?"  

"I never married him, baby."  

"Why not, Aunt Naomi?" I was glad Daniel asked her that. I wanted to know, and yet I wasn't sure that I wanted to know.  

"So many things. Our religions – oh, yes, they did start to become a factor – our temperaments, our political beliefs – " She sighed. "Jeff was drafted. It was around the same time as your Uncle Adam. I couldn't make my brother promise he would look after Jeff…"  

"Why not, Mama?"  

She hugged me to her. "In the first place, Jeff was a grown man and could look after himself. Or so he assured me. And in the second, if Adam had ever learned I was dating his Christian friend, he would have cut him out of his life. When Jeff got his orders, he came up to see me one last time before he shipped out. He was being sent to Germany . We were so relieved."  

"I don't understand, Aunt Naomi."  

"The lucky ones were sent to Germany , Daniel. We knew that at least he would come home. We… er…celebrated." She glanced down at me, then dropped a kiss on my hair. "Do you know what's so awful about that whole thing? Jeff died in Germany . From a stupid jeep accident."  

She was silent for a long time while I absorbed the fact that I'd gained a father only to lose him in a matter of minutes. I started when she touched my shoulder. She rose to her feet.  

"Say goodbye to Daniel." There was finality in her tone.  

"Aunt Naomi?"  

"Mama?" I felt cold, even though it was the middle of May.  

"It's time for us to be moving on, baby. I've had an offer for a part in a new movie, and it's more than an extra."  

"Please don't go, Aunt Naomi. We'll miss you so much."  

"Not all of you. Your mother will be very relieved that her outspoken, unconventional sister is no longer going to be in close proximity."  

"Leave Blair, then. He could stay with us."  

"Mama, please?"  

"I'm sorry, baby. No. We'll be going to Mexico ! Won't you like to see the people who live there? They're the descendants of the Aztec and Mayan people."  

"Yes, Mama." I kept my lower lip firm. "I'm taking this with me." I held tight to the book Daniel had given  me.  

"All right, baby."  

Daniel hugged me. I could barely see him for the tears, but it didn't matter, because tears were in Daniel's eyes also. "Maybe Aunt Naomi will bring you up to West Point , short stuff." He would be starting there in the late summer.  

"Of course I will," Naomi said. "I've already talked to your mother, Daniel. We've said our goodbyes." She waited while I hugged him one last time. "Take care of yourself. The army doesn't treat our men well."

~~~~Back to Where We Started

That was the only time I'd ever cried because we were moving, although true to her word, Naomi did take me to West Point a couple of times to see Daniel.  

"I traveled the country and the world with Naomi, and – when I found something that I wanted to explore – without her."  

"Anthropology, Chief?"  

"Yes. Eventually I wound up here in Cascade. It was the best move I've ever made."  

"I think so too."  

I was glad. I glanced at the clock. "It's getting late. You shouldn't have let me rattle on like that."  

"I should have, Chief. I should have made you do that a long time ago. You were a pistol. You still are." He brought his hand up and rubbed his knuckles under my chin, and my eyes slitted, and I wanted to purr like a cat. I must have said something, because he growled, "I thought the panther was *my* spirit animal."  

"But wolves don't purr."  

"No, that's true. They growl and howl and whimper."  

"And I don't do that, so you'll have to make due with purring, smart guy."  

"So you don't howl or whimper? Famous last words, Chief." He grinned and ran a palm up the inseam of my jeans.  

"Now, Jim… " I was getting nervous. I'd never seen him playful like this.  

"When I first brought you here – do you remember, Blair?"  

"Of course I remember." I couldn't take my eyes off his hand. It was just centimeters from the vee of my thighs.  

"Of course you do." There was a smile in his voice, and  I dragged my eyes up to his. "You told me you were bisexual, and I said that wasn't a problem, so was I. What did you say to that?"  

There was no way he could miss the way my dick was pushing against the front of my jeans. I licked my lips. "I said, 'Cool. Wanna screw?'"  

Jim removed his hand, and I bit back a whimper. "I did want to, Chief. You have no idea how much I wanted to. You were standing next to me, and I was going wild because every time you took a breath, I took one too," he stroked the emerald stud in my left earlobe, "and the scent of sex poured off you and flooded my sense of smell with how much you wanted me."  

"But…?"  

"But I was finally getting a handle on my senses, thanks to you. As much as I wanted you sliding into my body… "  

"Jim! You'd bottom for me?"  

He cuffed my shoulder. "I'd do anything for you. But I did that once, and when the sex ended, so did the friendship. I wasn't going to take the chance of losing you, losing your friendship just because of an itch we wanted to scratch. Besides, I'm older than you are, and I didn't want to fall in love with you, only to have you leave me for someone who was younger. And had a fuller head of hair."  

"Your hair is fine, Jim. You just have a very defined widow's peak." We both laughed, and then I rested my fingertips on his cheekbone. "I won't leave you. This past year has been murder. Every time you said you wanted to talk, I was afraid you were going to tell me to hit the road."  

"I thought you were smarter than that, Sandburg." He turned his head into my fingers and pressed a kiss to them, then probed the webbing with his tongue, and I wanted to moan. "It's been a long year for me too, Chief. You didn't need me as a subject for your diss any more, and I had my senses under control. You seemed willing to stay here with me, but I was afraid one day you'd get bored and hit the road."  

I gave his cheek a light tap. "I thought you were smarter than that, Ellison." I turned the tap into a caress. "Jim, where are we going with this?"  

"Up the stairs to the loft, I hope."  

My heart started pounding. "For just tonight?" If that was all he wanted, I would be okay with that. I would make myself okay with that.  

"For forever. As much as I tried to protect my heart," his grin was crooked, "I fell in love with you anyway."  

"You *love* me?"  

"Yeah, I do."  

"Holy…" I threw myself at him, knocking him backwards on the couch, his legs sprawled to cradle mine. "Jim!" I peppered his face with kisses, his cheek, his jaw, his nose, his eyes, then took his mouth with fiercer, devouring ones.  

Something hard pressed against my hip, and I reached for it and caressed his dick through the material of his jeans. He shuddered under me and spread his legs wider. My jeans were too tight, they were too in the way. I angled back onto my knees, undid my fly, and shoved my jeans and shorts down. Then I got his jeans undone and out of the way, and I took the time to admire the naked flesh.  

"Commando, Jim?" Even without Sentinel senses, I could feel the heat of his blush.  

"A guy can hope." His voice was hoarse. He had been busy too. He'd unbuttoned his shirt, then sat up and shoved my tee shirt up under my arms. I wrestled it over my head and flung it aside.  

His palm cupped an ass cheek, while the fingers of his other hand dragged through the hair on my chest, traced it down to my abdomen and lower to the curls that fanned out over my groin. Then he brought it back to my chest, and he tugged lightly on the nipple ring I'd had inserted the day I learned of Daniel's death.  

I shuddered as he licked and sucked on my right nipple, his hand now exploring the shape and texture of my dick. A sound from back in my throat slipped past my lips, and I bit down to keep another from escaping.  

"Was that a whine, Chief?"  

"No. Maybe a whimper, but never a whine." I leaned my forehead against his and our breaths mingled. "Down, Jim"  

"Not Rin Tin Tin, here, Chief." But he lowered himself back onto the couch. He caught the chain of my Star of David, bringing me down with him.  

I settled back on top of him, and we both shuddered in relief as dick slid against dick.  

I groaned and reached between us, and pressed my thumb on the slit at the top of his dick; it was wet with precome, and his hips jerked up, and he echoed my groan and dragged my mouth down and took it in a kiss that was rough and possessive.  

Not that I minded. I was kissing him in much the same way.  

While he had his way with my mouth, he slid his other hand over the curve of my ass.  

His palm was warm, squeezing and kneading that cheek. Then his fingers found something better to do. They dipped into the crevice and toyed with my hole, stroked the skin leading to my balls, rolled them, then ran over the base of my cock.  

"If we keep this up, Jim, I'm not gonna make it up to the bed."  

"Fuck the bed," he growled as he nuzzled my jaw.  

If this turned out to be another dream, I was going to be seriously pissed.  

"No dream, Chief."  

Jesus, I was talking out loud again.  

We drove against each other, the friction eased by precome, but our jeans around our thighs restricted our movements, which quickly became desperate.  

Jim got whimpers out of me, although he was pretty vocal with the whines when my touches weren't firm enough or exactly where he wanted.  

I latched onto a nipple and sucked hard, and Jim was there a spit second before I was, semen shooting up onto his bare belly, splattering onto mine. And then he had a finger in me, and I was coming, and it was hot and wet and messy, and the best climax I'd ever had.  

It took a while, but I finally caught my breath. I propped myself up on an elbow and looked into his eyes. "Jim, are you okay?"  

"Never better, Chief."  

"Open your eyes."  

He did, and I could see he was telling the truth. They were sated and relaxed. Before I could collapse back down onto him, he ran a finger over my collarbone, scooped up some come, and smeared it across my lips. I opened my mouth to protest, but he used the chain to pull my head down, and then his mouth was there, sealing it.  

When he finally let me up for air, it took a second for me to uncross my eyes. "You didn't zone, did you?" I was pretty sure I had.  

"If I did, it was worth it." His hand was on my ass, a fingernail drawing patterns.  

"Yeah. That was definitely awesome, man."  

"Thank you. Thank you very much."  

"Very funny, Elvis." I nipped his shoulder. "Jim."  

He yawned. "Yeah, babe?"  

I shivered with unexpected pleasure. That was the first time he'd ever called  me that.  

Jim … my lover… was abruptly wide awake. "Are you cold, Blair? Where's your tee shirt? Do you want me to get you a blanket?"  

"No, I'm not cold, I have no idea where my tee shirt wound up, and no, I don't want a blanket. I'm very happy right here." I licked his neck, bit down and sucked, and it was his turn to shiver.  

"I'd get you a blanket, Blair. If you needed one."

"I know you would." I kissed him, then rested my head on his chest. "But that would mean you'd have to get up. For you to get up, *I'd* have to get up, and I'm very comfortable right here. Babe."  

"Ah. Okay, then." There was a smile in his voice. His arms came around to hold me.  

"We're gonna be stuck together."   

"I don't have a problem with that."  

"As long as we're on the same page." I could hear the beat of his heart under my ear.  

"You… uh… you didn't mind what I did, did you?"  

"I never mind when my lover short-circuits my hard drive."  

"You've had a lot, Chief?"  

I swore under my breath. Old motor mouth struck again. "Jim… "  

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."  

"Yes, you should. I only want the two of us in our bed. Jim, I've had my share of lovers. It was fun, and there were no ties, even more so once I started post-graduate work. But now… " I was getting too serious. I was going to scare him off.  

"I won't be scared off, Chief."  

"Dammit!"  

He tipped my chin up and kissed me. "It's okay. I like your motor mouth." He ignored my groan. "'But now'?"  

"I want those ties, Jim."  

"Good. Because I want to tell you something, Sandburg. We may not be able to exchange vows in front of a minister, but as far as I'm concerned, we're as tied together as if we did. Does that scare you?"  

For a long while the only sounds were kisses we shared.  

"I take it that means no."  

"That's right." I nuzzled his ear, and I grinned when he shivered. "Would you tell me something?"  

"Sure, Chief."  

"Why now, Jim?"  

"Why did I all of a sudden work up the courage to put some moves on you?"  

"That isn't how I'd put it, but yeah."  

"I was home when you got home."  

"But your truck wasn't in its usual spot."  

"The engine overheated; it's in the shop."  

"It overheated? All by itself?" I angled up so I could study his face to see if he was pulling my leg. "It didn't have any help, by a bullet, say?"  

"No, it didn't have any help. It just crapped out on me. It happens sometime, you know. Can I get on with this?"  

I pretended to grumble, and he pinched my ass. "Hey!"  

"I'll kiss it better later."  

"Okay." Promises like that soothed much teasing.  

"With the truck in the shop, I needed a lift home."  

"You could have called me."  

"I know I could have, Chief, but I didn't want to put you out. You'd have missed a class."  

"You still could have called," I murmured, knowing he heard me, no matter how softly I spoke.  

He kissed me. "I'll call next time. I promise."  

"Okay." It wasn't just the kiss that made me feel good. I folded my arms over his chest and watched his eyes. Ice blue, but right then, not cold at all.  

"Okay. So Simon drove me home. When you came in the door, you said… "  

"I know," I dropped my head to his chest so I wouldn't have to look into his eyes, "'Honey, I'm home.'"  

He ran his fingers through my hair and tugged gently. "But then you said, 'It's a good thing Jim isn't around. He'd be able to figure out I was serious.'"  

"I did not!" I arched back to look into his eyes, and sated dicks twitched. I couldn't let that distract me, though. "I said that out loud?" His expression told me I had. "Oh, shit. You'd think after all these years I'd learn how to keep my mouth shut."  

"Don't keep your mouth shut. Not to me. Anyway, I knew you'd be embarrassed when you realized I was home and had heard you, so after you went into the bathroom, I came back downstairs, grabbed my jacket and the spare set of keys, and hung out in the hallway until I heard you start dinner."  

"Did you have this in mind –us winding up on the couch – when you asked me to tell you about my life?"  

"I'd hoped we'd wind up in bed, but yeah." He rubbed his palm over my butt. The man seemed to have a fixation with my ass. I liked that.  

"So that was what helped you buy a ticket on the clue bus, Jim?"  

"That and something else."  

"Are you going to tell me, Sherlock?"  

"I realized about a week ago that you hadn't been on a date since before you turned in your diss. Since *long* before you turned in your diss."  

"I could have been seeing someone, smart guy, and just not told you or brought the person home."  

"Hmmm? Oh, I'd have smelled her on you. Or him." He smacked my butt.  

"Hey! That's gonna cost you some kisses, you know."  

"On your feet, Sandburg. It's bedtime." His grin told me he was looking forward to it. "Let's get this show on the road."  

"Fine by me, Jim." I swung off him and eased my jeans up over my thighs and hips and tucked in my dick. I didn't bother zipping the fly, though. "What about a shower?"  

"In the morning." Jim stood and got his jeans up, and watched me as I started to search the room.  

"Ah hah!" I found what I was looking for over by the front door, and I scooped up my shirt.  

"How'd your tee shirt get there, Chief?" He was looking so smug.  

"Oh, what? You think it was your awesome powers as a lover?"  

"Can I help it if you're so warm for my form you get out of control?"  

"Ass." I threw my shirt at him, but I wasn't mad. There was such a happy grin on his face. He crooked his finger, beckoning me, and I returned to him.  

His pulled me close to him, as if to give me another kiss, but paused with our lips just a breath apart.  

"Jim?"  

"Are you going to tell me, Blair?"  

"Tell you… ?" Oh. Of course. "I love you, Jim. I've loved you since you tossed me up against the wall in my basement office at Rainier ." I took his arms and put them around my neck.  

"What, not when you saw me in the waiting room at the hospital?"  

"Oh, well, if you're talking about lust at first sight..." I settled my palms on his ass.  

"Y'know something, babe?"  

"What, babe?"  

"This spring? I think it just might be lucky for me."  

"For both of us, Jim." I pulled him closer and looked up into his eyes. "For both of us."  

~End~