By Tinnean
PG-13
If it had been any other day, the outcome might have been different.
If Jim had stayed behind to clean up the bathroom after Blair, if they hadn't
quarreled because Blair was out of clean clothes *again* and had to wear one
of Jim's shirts, if they had finally realized they were in love with each
other and decided to spend the day in bed, exploring that love.
Any one of a dozen things could have delayed them and altered the course of
events.
But none of them did. They left apartment 307 at the same time, together,
but unfortunately, late.
Jim's baby blue pick-up, a replacement for the sky-blue pick-up that had been
demolished in a run in with some drug dealers, was parked across from 852
Prospect. When he had gotten home the night before, all the really good
parking spots had been taken, so he had no choice but to leave it across the
street, down the block from the bus stop.
He was about to look both ways before crossing, when Blair made a remark that
almost caused him to fall on his face. His momentum kept him going forward
and he stepped off into the street, the shorter man following, looking up
into frosty blue eyes that had suddenly turned hot.
Neither of them saw the bus careening around the corner, desperate to
maintain its speed over double nickels. There were screams. There were
shouts. There were warning cries. There was no screech of desperately applied
brakes.
Jim grabbed Blair to toss him out of the way.
Blair grabbed Jim, meaning to push him to the curb.
Their actions counteracted each other.
There was a sickening thud.
For a moment the pain was so bad Blair didn't think he could survive it. And
then it was gone and he felt as if he was floating. He saw the bright light
and wafted towards it gently. But then the closer he got to it, the greater
his speed became.
With a wrenching pop, he emerged on the other side.
Aghast, he stared down at himself, expecting to see blood and guts. That had
been quite a hit he took, he remembered that much!
Umm, why was he wearing in a white dress? No, wait a minute, not a dress. A
robe!
Something brushed against his cheek, and he ran his hand through his hair in
irritation, meaning to thrust it back behind his ear. Only to discover his
hair was still neatly tied back; it wasn't his hair that was tickling his jaw.
He gave a sharp tug, and yiped in pain. In his hand was a long, white feather.
"You really shouldn't play with your feathers, Chief."
"Jim?" Blair was overjoyed. He threw himself into the older man's
arms,
hugging him fiercely. "Man, I am just *so* glad to see you, big guy!"
He hadn't minded dying. Well, okay, yeah, he really hated it like hell. But
he figured that if Jim survived, his sacrifice was worth while.
And now here the Sentinel was, right beside him!
Then he thought about it. "Oh shit, man, you're dead too! Ah *fuck*! I am
so
*fucking* sorry, Jim. I was sure I could save you!"
Jim tenderly stroked Blair's hair away from his eyes, those blue eyes that he
more and more wanted to lose himself in. "I was trying to save *you*,
Chief.
Guess it didn't work out for either of us!"
"Well, I'll tell you the truth, Jim: There's no one else I'd rather spend
eternity with than you!"
"Really?" Jim's voice rose an octave in surprise. "You like me
that much?"
"Hell, Jim, I ..." Blair felt the color rise in his cheeks and gave a
snort
of laughter. "Yeah, I like you that much. What do you say we find out
where
we're supposed to bunk and then grab a bite to eat?"
"Sounds good to me, Chief!"
****
"Ah-hem."
No response.
"Excuse me, Lord?"
"What is it, Ezekiel?" The Lord God snapped. He was rather cross
today. Too
many petitions were coming across His desk from Hell, claiming there had to
be some mistake. As if He ever made an error.
Well, all right, there *was* that one time, way back when He was first
starting out, but hey, He had corrected it right away, hadn't He?
His eyes tracked the lush female figure that was sauntering across the
quadrangle outside His office window.
He *sure* had!
"Ah, I hate to bring this to Your attention, especially when I know You're
so
busy, what with all the God-things You have to do..."
"You're wasting My time, Ezekiel! Spit it out, man!"
"Well, Sir," the prophet shuffled from one foot to the other,
"it seems we
have a situation here."
"Where, here?" The Lord God had gotten distracted by a memo and lost
track of
the conversation. Lucifer was demanding *what*???
"Here, here, Sir. In Heaven."
That got the Lord's attention with a vengeance. "What in the nine hells of
Nergal are you talking about, prophet?"
Ezekiel looked uncomfortable. It always disturbed him when the Bossman swore.
He should be above that, shouldn't He?
God looked upwards for guidance, then realized He had only Himself to depend
upon. He grumbled a mild swear word under His breath and glared at Ezekiel.
"Tell Me what the problem is!"
"Well, Sir we got two new arrivals this afternoon, and they just won't
behave
with the proper decorum!"
God knew the prophet's idea of decorum, and felt sorry for the new comers. He
sighed. "What are they doing?"
"It's orientation, Sir. Because of conflicting religions they're scheduled
for different indoctrination, but the younger one insists on remaining in
close proximity with his companion."
"So? What's wrong with that?"
"Um, well, his idea of close is, like, mumblemuttergrouse."
"Say that again, please," the Lord barked shortly. The incompetents
He was
expected to put up with these days!
The uncomfortable prophet spit out the words as fast as he could.
"Hiscockinhisass!"
"Oh, tell Me I did not hear what I think I heard!" God was *not*
pleased.
Ezekiel sighed. "His cock in his ass, Sir. The smaller one suddenly leaped
on
the larger man and the next thing we knew..." He held out his hands to
show
he was denying all responsibility for the way this had turned out.
"So, what you are trying to tell me is that Blair Jacob Sandburg has taken
James Joseph Ellison."
"Yes, Lord."
"For better or worse?"
"It would appear that way, Lord."
"And you want Me to deal with this matter?"
"Exactly, Sir!" The prophet gave a sigh of relief. *He* wasn't
the one
getting the big bucks. Let his Superior handle this one!
"Hmmm." The Lord God appeared to be deep in thought. He snapped His
fingers
and a pair of files materialized before Him. He waved a hand toward His
prophet, signaling his dismissal. "Oh, and send them to Me."
"Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir! As you say, Sir!"
His Son, Mary and Joseph! but God hated toadies!
****
Blair and Jim stood before The Supreme Being, so awash in their newfound love
that they hadn't the sense to realize they might be in it up to their wing
tips.
God was pleased to see that while the younger of the two was draped
possessively over his companion, he had discretely tucked away his raging
hard-on and was no longer buried in his lover's snug channel.
"We seem to have a problem, gentlemen."
"We do, Sir?" Jim was lost in the scent of his guide's constant
arousal. "Not
from where I'm standing!"
"Ahem!"
"Oh. Sorry, Sir! You were saying?"
God was depressed. He hated when He had to make judgment calls like this.
"I'm saying the two of you will have to be separated."
Two sets of horrified eyes were riveted on Him. "God, no! Anything but
that!"
"I'm sorry, those are the rules!"
"Well Your rules fucking suck!" Blair spat. He was too much his
mother's
child to have respect for anyone in a position of authority. He *might* make
an exception for Lord, but He wouldn't want to push it.
"There has to be a way around that!" Jim pleaded, holding tightly to
his
shorter partner. "If *You* can't bend the rules, then who can?"
"Well," there was a glint in God's eyes that boded no good for
someone. "I
can see to it that you spend eternity together. But for that, one of you must
go to Hell and complete what would have been his three score years and ten
there!"
The two newest angels both turned pale. "So You're saying that if one of
us
is willing to go to Hell, at the end of that time, we'll be together,
forever?"
God nodded, satisfied that He had gotten His point across. Spending any time
in Hell was the very devil, and no one who had been in Heaven had ever been
willing to visit the nether regions.
He was always tickled when things worked out the way they were supposed to.
This pair would be separated and matters would proceed smoothly.
Sandburg and Ellison exchanged horrified glances.
Then Sandburg stepped forward. "I'll go," he said.
"What?" God sputtered.
"You can send me down there!"
"NO!" Jim roared. He cast an apologetic glance at the Lord.
"Sorry, Sir. But
I'm older than Sandburg. I'll have less time to spend in Hell. And I'm
tougher than he is!"
"Are you saying I'm a wimp? That I can't hack it?" Blair snarled.
"I'm just
as tough as you are! Aren't I your guide?"
"And I'm your Blessed Protector! *I* will be the one to go!"
The lovers squared off, and the Lord God's shoulders slumped. It hadn't
worked. He had been so sure that neither one would be willing to sacrifice
the glory of Heaven for the wretchedness of Hell.
He recalled that they had died, each trying to save the other, and realized
that this was one time when He would not bend the rules, but fracture them
into tiny little pieces.
"Gentlemen?"
They paused in the midst of their bickering. "Yes, Lord?"
God smiled and waved His hand. The two were gone, and He sighed in relief,
pleased that just when He thought humans could get no more selfish, something
would happen to prove Him wrong. Unlike His adversary, He didn't mind at all
when His creations rose above their baser selves.
He returned to His seat and began studying that memo from Lucifer. His
demands were becoming more and more outrageous. Now he wanted *arbitration*?
He shook His head and began drafting a response.
****
For a moment, the Sentinel and his Guide felt disoriented. Then the sensation
dissipated and they dismissed it as just one of those things.
Jim's baby blue pick-up, a replacement for the sky-blue pick-up that had been
demolished in a run in with some drug dealers, was parked across from 852
Prospect. When he had gotten home the night before, all the really good
parking spots had been taken, so he had no choice but to leave it across the
street, down the block from the bus stop.
He was about to look both ways before crossing, when Blair made a remark that
almost caused him to fall on his face. He drew them both back onto the
sidewalk. "You *what*?"
"I said I love you, man. I don't know why it took me so long to realize
it,
but you mean more to me than anything else in Heaven or Hell!"
"You mean it, Chief?"
"Yeah, I do. I...I just had to tell you. If you don't feel the same way,
hey,
I'll deal with it."
"Are you telling me you'll get over me?"
"No. I'll never get over you. But I want you in my life, and if I can't
have
you as my lover, then I'll have you as my friend. If you still want to be my
friend."
At that moment a bus came careening around the corner, desperate to maintain
its speed of over fifty-five miles an hour. Blair and Jim watched in
amazement as it took the turn on two wheels, nearly tipping over, and then
righted itself with a bounce.
It disappeared down the block, and the Sentinel and his Guide watched in mute
shock. Blair started across the street to get to Jim's pick-up. A long arm
grabbed him around the waist and hauled him back into an encompassing embrace.
Warm lips found and caressed his own. "Let it go, Chief. That's a whole
'nother picture show!"
He dragged Blair back into their building and nuzzled his ear as they waited
for the elevator. "But what about work, Jim?"
His Sentinel looked down at him with eyes that burned with a blue fire. "I
want you now Chief, and I've got plenty of personal time. Fuck work!"
"Oh no, big guy, I'd much rather you fuck me!"