Don't tell Jim

By Sunglow66


Rating: G

Author Notes: Thanks to Moonglow11066 for the beta. This is for Uniquewonders who requested a Blair panicking fic in my LJ some time ago. Not quite what she suggested but near enough I hope.


It was still dark out when Blair woke wondering where the hell he was and who had allowed the camel to take up residence in his mouth.

He cracked open his eyes and tried to focus on what was under his nose. He finally recognised Megan's sofa throw and managed to sit up after three tries.

The room swam and it seemed like the whole percussion section of an orchestra had set up shop above the camel.

"Strewth, I think a dingo slept in my mouth." Megan staggered out of her bedroom dressed in the same clothes she'd worn the night before.

"Is it a friend of the camel that slept in mine?" Blair scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned as lights started to flash behind his eyes, oh wait, that was Megan switching on the overhead light.

"Jesus, Sandy, you look like hell."

"Hey, you're no oil painting yourself at the moment."

Megan went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and finally saw the state of her make-up.

"Bloody hell! I am never going drinking with you again, Sandy."

"Hey, I wasn't the one ordering the tequila shots." Blair staggered into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge until he found the coffee.

"Sandy, can you remember what we did last night?" Megan emerged from the bathroom just as the coffee finished, still dressed but with a clean face.

"I have vague memories of a bar, the third one I think, and some girls giving me their phone numbers. It's a bit of a blur after that."

"Sandy, we didn't…you know…"


"You know…" She waved vaguely between the two of them.

"Megan, my brain isn't working at the moment. 'You know' what?"

"Have sex last night."


"Because my arse hurts, alright? It feels like it's been scraped up against a brick wall."

Blair thought for a minute and found that he wasn't feeling like he normally did when he'd had sex the night before.

"Nope, not me. Although my ass is stinging as well."

"You think we both got done against a brick wall last night?"

"No. I think I remember somewhere that was all red with snakes and spiders and dragons, it was either a real place or something out of a nightmare. Let me check my pockets, you check your purse."

Megan emptied her purse on the kitchen table and sifted out the bits of paper that looked like phone numbers. Blair checked his pockets and came up with a similar amount of numbers. They both found a sheet of paper, which looked like instructions.

"How to care for your new tattoo." Megan read.

"Oh god." Blair was reading the same. "You don't think…"

"I think…" Megan's hand went to her right butt cheek and she winced. "We did."

"I'm a dead man." Blair would have sat down but now that he knew it was there he was reluctant to put any pressure on it.

"Show me." Megan suddenly demanded.


"Come on, what did you get?"

"You show me yours first."

"Fine." Megan hitched up her skirt at the back and any other time Blair would have admired the long slim legs being exposed. "Well?" Megan had pulled down the right half of her panties to show Blair her right butt cheek.

"You've got a permanent souvenir of your secondment to the Cascade PD." He told her, looking at the exact replica of the Cascade PD badge together with her name underneath it, which was now a permanent addition to her body.

"Oh God."

"Look on the bright side. If you ever lose your ID you can just show them this."

"Okay, now show me yours." She pulled up her panties and let her skirt drop back. She then reached for his belt buckle.

"Megan!" He batted away her hands. "I can do it!"

Unzipping his pants he turned and exposed his left butt cheek.

"Oh Sandy." There was reverence in Megan's voice. "It's beautiful."

"What is it? It's not too big is it?"

"Your butt or the tattoo?"

"The tattoo."

"No, it's a perfect size. Your butt as well."

"So, what is it?"

"Go check in the mirror." She pushed him into the bedroom where she had a full-length mirror and waited.

Thirty seconds later there was an anguished moan.

"He's gonna kill me."

"He's never going to know, Sandy. It'll be healed by the time he gets back."

Jim was with Simon in Denver where they were testifying and weren't due back for a couple of weeks.

"He's gonna know, Megan. He'll smell the ink or something."

"It's your body, Sandy, you can do what you like to it."

Blair thought for a minute.

"Okay, it's my body, I can do what I like with it." He repeated. "It's my body, I can do what I like with it."


It became his mantra over the next week. He reckoned that if he repeated it often enough he'd begin to believe it.

The 'Did they, didn't they' pool on whether Megan and Blair had slept together (a passing patrol car had spotted Blair leaving her apartment in the early hours of Sunday morning) lasted until the following Monday when Megan stood up in the break room and commented that if people put as much effort into solving crimes as they did nosing into her sex-life Cascade would be crime free, and no, she and Sandy did not sleep together.


Jim and Simon were delayed by a couple of days so the tattoo was sixteen days old when Jim returned. He arrived very late and was disappointed that Blair wasn't still up; he'd missed him.

He was showered, shaved and dressed before Blair was awake and was in the kitchen pouring a mug of coffee when Blair, half awake, wandered out of his room on the way to the bathroom.

"Morning, Chief."

Blair jumped and whirled to face Jim, his heart racing.

"Jim! When did you get back? I thought you were coming back tonight."

"Got an earlier flight, got in late last night."

"Right, right. Good to see you, man, I'll just…um…go…" Blair gestured vaguely towards his room, did an about face and headed back into it, coming out seconds later with his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

Jim was mystified as to what was going on with his roommate. Shrugging, he put it down to the fact that he'd startled him; his heart was still pounding, he could hear it over the spray of the shower.


Three days later Jim noticed Blair was still acting strangely. He continued to take his clothes into the bathroom to change into instead of just his shorts and tee, and he wore sweatpants to bed instead of boxers. His pants seemed to be even baggier than normal and although he wasn't as comfortable with nudity as Jim was, he seemed to go out of his way to keep covered up.

It was when Jim accidentally brushed Blair's left ass cheek and Blair pulled away like he'd been stung that it finally occurred to Jim what was wrong with him. Jim pushed away from his desk and headed to the bathroom, suddenly feeling the need to be on his own.

There was no one else in there and he leaned against the sink, his head down.

Blair had finally found out how Jim felt about him and wasn't comfortable with him any more. That explained the nervousness Blair was displaying since he'd got back from Denver, and the way he kept covered up.

He took a deep breath and let it out, unconsciously using Blair's meditation technique to calm himself. Okay, all he had to do was talk to Blair; explain that although he was attracted to him he wasn't planning on doing anything about it. Blair didn't have to worry that Jim was suddenly going to pounce on him. Blair was pretty open-minded, maybe once he realised he had nothing to worry about they could go back to normal. Right, decision made, Jim headed back to his desk to find Blair gone.

"Blair said to tell you he had an appointment, Jim. He'd see you back at the loft later." It was Joel who answered Jim's query as to where his partner was.

It turned out that Jim didn't have to wait until the evening to see Blair; he got a phone call two hours later from the hospital notifying him that Blair had been admitted to ER, a knife wound.

Letting Simon know where he was going, Jim hightailed it out of there. He made it in fifteen minutes flat, a personal best, and homed in immediately on his partner's heartbeat.

"Okay, Blair, you know the routine, drop the pants."

"Aw, come on Janie, it's my arm that's cut, not my ass."

"Just drop the pants."

"Is it part of your job description that you have to have sadistic leanings?"

"Yeah, they have recruitment posters up at the BDSM clubs, now, Drop. The. Pants."

"Alright, alright, jeez."

Jim heard him undo his belt and the rustle of clothing as Blair prepared to accept the pain-killing injection.

"Wow, Blair, when did you get this?"

"Nearly three weeks ago, but, uh Janie, keep it to yourself, okay? Wouldn't want this to get out."

"You mean you don't want Jim to know."

"Hey, I'm not a masochist, I don't enjoy getting my ass kicked."

"And it's such a pretty one."

"Just get it over with, huh Janie?" There was a pause. "Ow."

"All done."

The nurse came out from behind the curtain to find Jim hovering in the doorway.

"Jim's here Blair." She called and came across to Jim. "He's fine, just a couple of stitches in his forearm."

Jim nodded and opened the curtain to find Blair frantically trying to pull up his pants. He managed it, but not before Jim saw what Blair had been trying to hide for the past four days since Jim had returned.


"Hi, Jim! Hey, remind me never to get between an addict and his next fix."

Blair tried to distract Jim but it didn't seem to be working. Jim's attention was fixed entirely on his ass and not for the reason Blair had always wished for.

"You want to tell me when you got that tattoo?"

"I think you probably heard me talking to Janie."

"What, you thought I'd never find out?"

"Hey, I hoped. Besides, it's my body, I can do what I like with it."

It sounded to Jim like he'd been practicing that line.

"You once said you'd never put anything on your body you couldn't take off."

"Yeah, and you said my blessed protector would kick my ass down seven flights to the lobby if I ever got a tattoo."

"That's why you've been covering up more than normal? It wasn't because you noticed how I…?"

Jim stopped before he gave himself away but it was too late, Blair had picked up on his words.

"Noticed how you what?"


Blair was well versed in Jimspeak and could read between the lines. He couldn't really miss the look in Jim's eyes either; a touch of insecurity underlying the heat of desire.

"Hey, you want to head home and inspect my tattoo in private?" Blair took hold if Jim's hand and squeezed it gently.

Jim looked into Blair's eyes and saw the love reflected back at him. He smiled and squeezed back.

"Love to, and you can tell me how you got it."

"Not gonna kick my ass?"

"I can think of other things to do to your ass, kicking isn't one of them."


Hours later, Jim traced the work of art tattooed on Blair's left ass cheek. A grey wolf was standing guard-like above a black jaguar, which was lounging at its feet. The artist had captured the alertness of the wolf perfectly, making him think of how Blair looked after Jim, and the jaguar, despite it's relaxed position, looked as if it was ready to spring into action any second.

"Do you like it?" Blair mumbled into the pillow.

"Yeah, but I'm the only one to ever see this, right?"

"Well, apart from Janie the nurse and Megan, you're the only one."

"Connor's seen it?"

"Hey, we were drunk, okay?"

"Yeah, you told me. I'm never letting you out with her again, not on your own anyway."

"Hey, I'm not the only one who got a tattoo."

"Connor got one too? Where?"

"Just don't ever ask her to show you her badge."


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