One More Time
By Selena
Ok, Jim thought to himself, lets start with what you know. Which at this moment, isn't a lot.
Where are you?
The Docks?
Ok, what are you doing here?
Meeting? Yes, informant called with information on the Mendlson case.
Shit head hurts.
Ok, Ellison, focus, what happened?
Drove up, parked truck, oh hell where did I put the truck?
Ow head really hurts.
Oh there is the truck, how could I lose it? Didn't get very far did we?
WE?
Oh Shit!
Jim sat bolt up right, he was lying in one of the many puddles that littered the ground. It had rained last night, hard. Jim jerked his head round, trying to get a bearing of where he was. He winced as a jolt of pain shot through his skull.
"Shit!" He cursed as he struggled to get to his feet, quickly he shut his eyes as he caught the full force of the mid day sun. He had been unconscious for a few hours then, the meeting had been scheduled for ten am. He dragged himself over to his truck; using the door as a support he dug his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number from memory, it was answered on the first ring.
"Banks" A gruff voice on the other end barked.
"Simon, it's Jim." Jim's voice was thick with pain.
"Jim, are you all right? You were supposed to check in an hour ago. What happened?"
"I'm not sure, Sir. We arrived at the meet as planned. It's little hazy after that. I think someone jumped us from behind. There is no sign of the informant or Sandburg."
"Shit, Jim are you sure?"
"Yes, Simon. I can't see anyone else here, I can't hear him. He isn't here. God, I don't know where he is."
"Ok, Jim. Calm down. Where are you?"
"The Docks."
"Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?"
Gingerly Jim reached around to touch the back of his head. There was no blood, just a golf ball sized lump. "No, Simon. I'm all right."
"Are you sure?"
God, why does he keep asking that? "Yeah, I'm good. I just have to find Blair."
"Ok, stay put, I am on my way over."
Jim snapped his phone shut, terminating the call. He leaned into the truck door, he needed the support. He felt sick, he was dizzy and the world around him seemed to be on a weird slant. "Oh, crap." He mumbled. He tried to get a grip on himself, but it was getting hard to form coherent thoughts. He felt himself slipping, he was going down. Slowly his world started to turn before eventually turning black.
*~*~*
"I lie half awake at night," the voice on the answer machine recited. "I reach out to touch you, feel you by my side." Jim listened carefully to the message. The call had come in while Jim had been in the hospital. The doctors had wanted to keep him in overnight for observation. But Jim had refused. Now he and Simon sat in the Captains' office listening to the tape for the 50th time. Still Jim could not find anything on the message to help him find his missing guide. The only things on this tape were Ian Mendlson's high-pitched whine, and in the background, there was Blair's slow and steady heartbeat. At least he knew his friend was alive. "Hey, pretty boy has some pretty secrets in this little book of his." Mendlson laughed. "Makes for good reading. There is some stuff in here you would like to know, Detective. Hmmmm, second thoughts perhaps you wouldn't. Don't worry, I will be in touch soon."
"What the hell was that about, Jim?"
"I wish to god I knew, Simon."
"Well what do we know?""Ok, Ian Mendlson has kidnapped Blair. That much we know for sure. I can only guess that it is to do with his brother Davey. We arrested him last night. We have suspected for a long time that they are both heavily involved with the smuggling ring we are investigating."
"Do we have evidence?"
"No, we arrested Davey Mendlson on unpaid parking tickets. That means we can only hold him so long. He was due to walk an hour ago."
"But you kept him in."
"Gonna keep him in as long as we can. The meet this morning was supposed to get us solid proof, but I guess it was a bust."
"Who tipped you off?"
"One of my sources, one of my more reliable ones or so I thought. I guess everyone has their price."
"I don't get it." Simon almost shouted with exasperation. "Mendlson had to have known we had nothing on his brother. We would have to let him go eventually. Why would he go to all this trouble?"
Jim shrugged and moved to rewind the tape again. He wasn't going to listen to it; he just needed an excuse to move. "I don't know, Simon. But when I get hold of him I am going to make him wish that he hadn't even though of pulling this stunt."
Simon regarded his friend. The big man's jaw was set in anger; his blues eyes were cold and hard as he focused on the task ahead. Simon had seen Jim in this mindset one too many times. He almost felt sorry for the bad guys, he sure as hell wouldn't want to be them when Jim caught up with them. But then they really did bring it on themselves. Mendlson wanted to play the game this way, then he would have to face the consequences. Simon was suddenly jerked from his thoughts by the ringing of a phone.
Jim's cell phone.
"Ellison!" Jim barked.
"I reach and I reach, but I never get to feel you. Will I ever get to feel you again?"
"Mendlson." Jim's voice was soft and deadly; it sent a shiver down Simon's spine.
"Just one more time. Just one more moment to take you in my arms. One more chance, one more kiss before I wake to find you gone. Oh pretty boy does have a way with words. But I am confused, Detective. The way he talks about you in this here diary. I can't work out your relationship, have you done it or are you going to do it?"
"What do you want, Mendlson?" Jim waved for Simon to start a trace.
"Oh not much, money, power. The pursuit of life and liberty."
"Come now, Mendlson. You can be more original than that."
"I don't have to be original, Detective. I find the old cliché's are the best, don't you?"
"If you hurt him."
"One more time before I have to face another day and my heart breaks again. Oh dear, Detective. Reading this it doesn't seem like you are a very good friend to our little Blair. So why would you care if I hurt him?" The phone clicked, Mendlson had hung up. Jim was left staring at the handset. Simon shook his head.
"Sorry, Jim. No trace."
"Shit."
"What was that about?"
"If I had to guess, I would say revenge. We took his brother, he took Blair. I am going to kill him."
"Calm down, Detective. You have to keep a clear head if you are going to get the kid through this."
"Did you know Blair keeps a journal?"
"What?"
"As an Anthropologist he keeps professional notes and diary's. But he keeps a personal one too. I know where he kept it. He would write in it at night and then put it under his pillow. I heard him."
"Jim. . "
"Ever since I read the draft of his diss he has taken the journal with him. It's as if he is afraid that I will go into his room and look for more of his secrets. And I can't tell him that I won't because by saying that I will be admitting to eavesdropping on him. How is he supposed to trust me after that?"
"So Mendlson was reading . . . ?
"Blair's journal. God that ass hole knows all of Blair's most intimate thoughts and is going to use them to get back at me. Shit, the kid is going to hate me after this."
"Have you read it?"
"What?"
"The journal, have you read it?"
"What? No, I wouldn't do that." Simon raised an accusing eyebrow. "Ok, so I read the diss. That was about me and I still say that I had a right to read it. But his personal diary, no I wouldn't do that. I invade enough of his privacy as it is. I hear every move he makes, everything he does. EVERYTHING. I can turn the dials down all I want but the moment Blair comes home they go back up. I can't help it."
"Have you told him this?"
"God, no. Simon, if Blair knows I go on full senses alert every time he is around he will never relax around me again. I can't do that to him."
"Go home, Jim" Simon said softly. "We will get the equipment set up so we can trace if he calls to your home or cell. You need to eat something and get some sleep."
"No, Simon. I am fine, really."
"No, you're not. You are going to be of no help to Sandburg if you are less then 100 percent. Get your ass home, now."
"Yes sir" Jim muttered sullenly as he grabbed up his coat and cell phone. Simon watched his best detective go, the man looked broken, he walked slow and hunched over. The last look he had given Simon would haunt him. Jim looked like he had lost part of his soul.
*~*~*
"It's only a dream but it's so real, I don't want it to end. Ha ha I bet he does, I bet he does wish it was a dream and that it would end real soon. Dontcha pretty boy?" The latest message ended with the soft thump of flesh hitting flesh, and a muffled cry of pain. Jim's heart leapt to his throat. He heard his guide's heartbeat, it was slow but steady. Blair's voice was muffled; the son of a bitch probably gagged him. He was going to pay for this; he was going to pay for hurting Blair.
Jim didn't need to read the young man's journal to know what the young man felt inside. It was written all over him, Blair wore his heart on his sleeve. Jim knew, as a man, there were certain things that a man had to do. In private. Just because all men did it, didn't mean they had to KNOW about it. Jim tried to give Blair his privacy; he put on the white noise generators so that he wouldn't have to hear Blair call out various girls' names in the heat of his passion. It slowly killed him, piece by piece each time Blair beat off thinking about his latest girlfriend. Then one day, Jim did listen in. It had been a long hard day, yet another mad bomber had held up the city. Once again Jim had pulled Blair from the jaws of death. Jim lay up in his bed; the scent of Blair's arousal was driving him crazy. He tried to tell himself he only needed to reassure himself that his friend was ok, he was here, and he was safe. But if he was honest, he was listening in because he wanted to. He heard the soft moans and gentle pumping as his guide brought himself to climax, Jim reached for his own erect member.
"Ohhh, yes" He heard Blair moan. "Yessssss, Jim." Jim's hand fell away from himself; he stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what to do.
Yeah, Jim knew that Blair was in love with him, maybe not love, maybe it was just lust. But whatever feelings Blair had for him. Jim returned them whole-heartedly. So Jim had a vague idea what was in the journal, the kid did have a hell of a way with words. And judging by some of the fantasies Blair had late at night, the book would make for good reading. But that didn't give scum like Mendlson the right to read it. God, Jim really was going to kill that guy. Then he was going to take hold of his guide and tell him everything is going to be ok, make him understand. The phone rang and Jim snatched it off its cradle.
"I pray and I pray. Every night I am on my knees, begging for the chance to see you again. But he isn't going to see you again, is he Blair? . . . . Answer me!"
"Leave him alone you ass hole!" Jim shouted down the phone.
"Ha, ha. Big tough cop wants to protect his boy toy. But he can't. Does that make you feel impotent cop?"
"What do you want?"
"Let my brother go."
"He would be getting out of here in a few hours anyway. You didn't need to do this!"
"No, but it was fun. And it was something to do to pass the time while I, packed. Now, you let my brother go, give us a few hours. Then I will tell you where you can pick up your boyfriend."
"How can I trust you?"
"You can't"
Jim paused for a moment; hopefully Mendlson would take that as Jim was thinking. When he was really looking at the little computer hooked up to his phone.
"Ok" He said finally. Mendlson hung up and the little computer beeped. "Gotcha." Sometimes criminals really were that stupid.
Jim called Simon on the way to the abandoned warehouse district. The call had originated from the run down old commercial estate. God, not only was this guy stupid, he was unoriginal. Simon arrived before the rest of the back up; the two of them stood outside the warehouse Jim had ascertained his friend was in.
"There is only the two of them in there, Simon. Let's go."
"Whoa, hang on a minute there, Jim. We should wait for back up to arrive."
"It's just one guy, Simon. I don't want to leave Blair in there any longer. I'm going in."
Simon sighed as he watched the other man go. "God, dammit." He muttered as he tore after the running Detective. He was half way to the building when he heard the gun shot. By the time he got there it was all over. Ian Mendlson lay in a pool of his own blood. Jim sat a few feet away, cradling a bound Sandburg in his arms. Mendlson was dead, there was no helping him, Simon turned to the other two men. The kid looked like hell, he had been in the hands of that psycho for less than 12 hours, but it may as well have been a week, the way Blair looked. His face was a mass of bruises; blood was caked in his hair. Simon looked back at Mendlson; Blair's book was still firmly gripped in his hand. Simon walked over to it and snatched it way from the death grip, and put it back in Blair's backpack where it belonged. He then moved back to where Jim was now untying Blair, while still trying to hold him close.
"I'll call and ambulance." Simon said softly. Blair shook his head ever so slightly, it was clear that even this small movement caused him pain.
"No," he whispered. "No hospital. I just want to go home."
"I really think you should get checked out, kid. You look like hell."
Jim wrapped his arms around the shaking young man, trying to still him, but failing.
"It's all right, Captain. I will take care of him." Simon shook his head again and backed away slightly; giving Jim the room he needed to help Blair get to his feet. Letting Blair use him as a crutch, Jim walked his partner out to the truck.
"I'll need your statements." He said to the men's backs. "Tomorrow will be fine." He watched the two of them go. "One day you are going to pay attention to me, I am the damn Captain."
*~*~*
Back at the loft, Jim waited until his guide was safely curled up on the sofa, wrapped tight in the afghan, before he relaxed. Blair had been quiet on the way home; in fact he hadn't said anything at all, hadn't looked at him, hadn't done anything at all. Jim couldn't take the silence. His guide wasn't quiet.
"Are you ok, Chief?" No answer. Jim moved to sit beside his friend. "Come on, Chief, talk to me." Blair sniffed and snuggled down into the afghan. Jim reached out a hand to find Blair's, but came up empty. "Come on, Blair. You can talk to me."
Slowly Blair turned his head and looked his partner in the eye for the first time that evening. "No, I can't." Blair turned away from him and closed his eyes. Jim watched him, unsure of what to say, how to start. Before it was easy to pretend that there was nothing going on. Jim couldn't ignore the feelings he had for Blair. But he could control them. They hadn't yet become public knowledge. Jim only knew how Blair felt because he was a Sentinel. Now it was time Blair knew how Jim felt.
"Blair . . . .I"
"They weren't about you." Blair ground out. Still not looking at him. Jim gave him a quick once over with his senses. It wasn't hard to tell that Blair was lying. He was too tired and too sore to try to hide it. "They weren't," He repeated, as if trying to convince himself. "They weren't."
Once again Jim reached out for Blair's hand, this time he struck gold. He gripped it tightly.
"That's too bad." Jim croaked. "I was really hoping they were." Blair's eyes snapped back to meet Jim's, his pulse began to race. "I almost lost you, again. And all I could think about was one more moment. One more time. I had to find you; I had to find you one more time. And this time I was going to tell you how I feel."
"Jim . . . I"
"No, listen to me. You can tell me I have it wrong, that he took your words out of context. Twisted them to suit his own twisted purpose. You can tell me that. But would rather you didn't. I don't want you to lie to me Blair. Please don't lie to me." Jim stared long and hard into his best friend's beautiful blue eyes. Blair looked back at him with wonder and confusion. And, did Jim see hope in those eyes? God he hoped so.
"Jim, man. Do you have any idea what you are saying?"
"Yes, Chief. I do. Look I tried to hang back after the thing with the diss. I wanted you to trust me again, I was willing to wait. But I couldn't help myself. I heard you, I hear you, at night."
"Oh, God." Blair cried out as he leapt off the sofa, forgetting his aches for one instant. He was mortified and showed on his face. But the reality of his condition hit him full force as he collapsed to the floor. Jim was at his side in a second. "No leave me alone." Blair mumbled as he weakly fought off Jim's touch.
"No, Chief I won't. Look I know telling you I listened in to your most private thoughts isn't the best way to get you to trust me again. But you have to know that I know. And that I feel the exact same way that you do."
"You do?"
"Yes, Blair. I do. I love you. I think I have loved you from the moment we met. Then all these times I almost lost you, then today. I just needed one more moment, one more time to take you in my arms. One more chance to take you in my arms for one more kiss."
"Kiss, you are getting presumptuous Mr. Ellison."
Jim gathered the smaller man up into his arms, scooping him from the floor and carried him across the room.
"I'm not being presumptuous. I am just taking charge. Before I have to face another day and my heart breaks again"
"Oh that is so corny, man."
"They were your words, Chief."
THE END
One more time (Chante Moore and Kenny G)
I lie half awake, late at night
I reach out to touch you
Feel you by my side
And I reach and I reach
But I never get to feel you
Will I ever get to feel you again, again?
Just one more time
One more moment
To take you in my arms
One more chance
One more kiss
Before I wake to find you gone
One more time
Before I have to face another day
And my hearts breaks again
It's only a dream
But it's oh so real
Don't want it to end
But I know it will
So I pray and I pray
Every night I'm on my knees
Begging for a chance to see you
Again, again
Just one more time
One more moment
To take you in my arms
One more chance
One more kiss
Before I wake to find you gone
One more time
Before I have to face another day
And my heart breaks again
Oh one more time
Before I have to face another day
And my heartbreaks
Again.
The End