Part 1 written for the 15minuteficlets word 51 challenge. Part 2 written for their picture
12 challenge. The whole thing for the Contrelamontre Vacation challenge, and Sentinel_Thurs photography challenge. Dedicated to Gothphyle in honor of her very real educational accomplishment.
Once more Naomi had taken it upon herself to meddle in her son's life, stealing the files he'd collected on Jim, and sending them to a publisher acquaintance, under the guise of "helping out Blair's self esteem." Of course the publisher had known a good story when he saw it, and before Blair knew it, there was talk of six figure deals, movies, and an almost assured Nobel prize. It would all have been wonderful, were it not for the fact that it was all impossible. It wasn't his story to tell, and he knew damn well Jim had no interest in being exposed. Even beyond the repercussions to his career and personal life, Jim was an intensely private person. So he made the only decision he could, and denied the truth of it.
Naomi understood none of this. "I did it for your own good, honey," she'd told Blair. So proud of herself for what she considered a helpful move, her actions ensured Blair would be wealthier than he had ever been in his life. It also ensured he would be alone. Blair didn't think he could live with the devastation. "Don't be dramatic," Naomi had said. "You can't stay with Jim forever. Now that your work is done, you've got your dollars, and he's got his donuts." She laughed at her little pun. Blair didn't.
Disaster. It was all a disaster. Blair noted how close the word came to Dissertation in the dictionary. How close it came to mean the same thing in his mind was even scarier. Disappointment: a word not nearly strong enough to describe the depths of his despair. Blair didn't know how he was ever going to get through the next days, weeks, months, lifetime. Dangerous, the outcome of Blair's mother's derring-do. Disgust -- what Jim surely felt for him. He'd already called Blair deceitful. Decrepit -- what Blair was going to be before Jim trusted him again. Distress -- what Blair was feeling under Jim's distrust.
Delectable -- a fine description of his determined, dashing partner. Debauched - what he dreamt he was when he woke up dick distended. Debased - what Jim would probably call him if he knew.
Drastic -- the kind of measures he was going to have to take to get back in Jim's good graces. Disheveled, the way he wanted to appear after he convinced Jim of his devotion
Doctor: a title he would never earn, despite years of diligence down the drain. Dazed, Blair listened as his true friends, the men and women of the Cascade Police Department announced what would soon be his new denominative. It was all going to work out with less difficulty than he anticipated, and more forgiveness than he deserved. Destiny had given him a second chance with his first love. Blair grinned when his partner handed him his new badge. Detective Blair Sandburg. "Congratulations, Sandy," Megan said, using the diminutive only she could call him. Jim's strong arms hugged him closely, and Blair hoped for a more private celebration later. It felt like the dawn of a new day.
Sunset on the ocean,
and Jim felt like a new man. He vowed he would make Blair feel that way too.
Simon had wisely suggested that some time away from Cascade would do them both
some good, as well as giving the department a little needed distance. Hopefully
a new scandal would draw attention elsewhere.
He and Blair had pooled their frequent flyer miles, and taken off for the east coast. They both felt the need to get away, to have some time together to regroup before Blair began his official training. Of course he had been learning the job since the first moment he suggested accompanying Jim to help him with his senses.
Still, Jim knew it was going to be an entirely different deal when Blair had to follow the rules to the letter. Never one for mindless parroting of statutes and regulations, Blair did what felt right. Jim was ashamed of himself for forgetting that, even for a moment. Blair would never have betrayed him on purpose.
It was going to take a little work to convince him that things were back to normal now. Jim had to get Blair to stop walking on eggshells around him. He hoped a few days of sun, sand and sight-seeing would do the trick. He wanted to see the new lines and circles around Blair's eyes ease. It was his fault that Blair was showing such strain, and he would do anything and everything to have his eager, happy partner back again.
More than missing the friendship he and Blair shared, Jim wanted to take their relationship to a new level. Before, he thought Blair would have been receptive, but with the whole dissertation fiasco, things had changed. It was ironic. It had taken Blair's supposed betrayal for Jim to finally realize he was in love with Blair. Unfortunately, Jim thought, Jim's rejection - kicking Blair out of the loft, not even listening when Blair tried to explain things - made Blair think the exact opposite. Jim had a week to set things straight - so to speak.
There were two photographs on Blair's new desk at the precinct the week he started his official new position. The first one was black and white, part of a newspaper article Blair wasn't sure why he kept. In it Jim was shielding his eyes from the glare of the tabloids' flashes, Blair's stricken expression caught perfectly.
The second snapshot was all oranges and browns. The photographer had been setting up his shots for a professional job, and he and Jim just happened to be there. Blair hadn't expected the guy to come through with copies of the pictures, but they had been waiting for the two of them when they arrived back in Cascade. In these, Jim was with Blair on the pier. He had one hand around Blair's waist, the other across his own face, hiding his eyes from the sun.
Neither was an especially good picture, but Blair knew if it hadn't been for the events of the first one, painful as they had been, they never would have made it to the second. That was the day Jim had told Blair how he felt, and Blair wouldn't give up that moment for anything.
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