Z is for Zone Out
Blair’s musings:
It’s been years since Jim’s had a zone out. I guess he’s gotten so good at
controlling his senses that he doesn’t really need a guide anymore. I mean Sir
Richard Burton, the explorer not the actor, didn’t say for certain that a
Sentinel needed a Guide for life. Did he?
Jim says we’re friends, buddies, pals. We certainly like the same stuff. Well,
except for our taste in music and food. Santana? They’re so last century. And I
swear Wonderburger is going to be the death of him; that is if the bad guys
don’t get him first. Oh, and he’s such a neat freak; me, not so much. And
clothes, I like them worn in, and he, he’s got this thing for white socks. I
like watching programs on ancient tribes while he enjoys sports. Hey, I like the
Jags as much as the next guy but one doesn’t have to overdose on them. There is
more to life than basketball.
He likes quiet, barely says a word unless he’s interrogating someone. People say
I don’t shut up. I don’t see that at all; I mean no one can keep on talking
until they run out of breath. I don’t do that...do I?
So I guess maybe it’s time for me to move out so he can have his space back
again. It was only supposed to be for a week, two tops. It’s been what; shit
it’s been more than seven years. A lot of crap happened in seven years but what
doesn’t kill us makes us strong, right? So I must be Atlas by now. But in the
end I was vindicated and I did get my PhD. In fact I did so much research that I
had enough for two doctorates. So what if I switched to Forensic Anthropology
instead of just Anthropology and got the second one in Psychology so I could
learn how to profile. After all Cascade is the most dangerous city in the
country, right?
Even if I move, we’ll still be friends. We can hang out, grab beers after a long
day of keeping our city safe. Go to a game every once in a while. Maybe shoot
some hoops after work. We’re not joined at the hip or anything.
I should start to pack. I don’t have much and my room is really just a little
storeroom under the stairs. When I’m gone he can store stuff in it again or turn
it into a neat little office.
“Hey, Jim?” Blair called out to his friend who was in his favorite spot on the
balcony overlooking his city. Jim resisted the instinct to run to Blair to offer
comfort. He could feel Blair’s anxiety, hear Blair’s pulse racing, smell Blair’s
fear in the air. The Sentinel in him wanted to keep the Guide safe, keep Blair
with him forever. But the human part of Jim had to wait to be sure that his next
move was the right move for Jim and Blair. Not just for the Sentinel and Guide.
“Hey, Chief, what’s up?” Jim asked trying to maintain his cool. It wasn’t easy
when his spirit guide, the black panther, was roaring loudly next to him. “Shhh,
be quiet,” Jim mumbled to the panther, hoping Blair wouldn’t hear.
“What?” Blair asked as he stepped out onto the balcony.
“Nothing,” Jim murmured hoping Blair wouldn’t push it.
“Ah Jim, I was thinking maybe it’s time that I...” Blair wasn’t sure how to
phrase it. He didn’t really want to leave. There was something special about
Jim, more than his sentinel abilities. Something that pulled Blair toward Jim;
made Blair ache for Jim.
“Blair, come here,” Jim said gently. Blair moved to Jim’s side. He sidled in
close like he did hundreds of times while Jim was using his abilities so that
Blair could keep his sentinel grounded to prevent a zone out.
Jim pulled the younger man closer, tucking him into his side and under his arm.
It felt right; this felt right. Jim deeply inhaled; Blair’s scent had suddenly
changed. All the signs were there, the sentinel knew it instinctually that the
guide wanted to take that last step and the sentinel was ready, willing and more
than able. Jim slightly turned, he swept a lock of rich auburn hair out of
Blair’s face. Then with two fingers under Blair’s chin, Jim gently tilted
Blair’s face up.
Ocean blue eyes gazed intensely into Jim’s ice blue eyes that to most, were
usually so cold, but now blazed hotter than lasers. Blair didn’t need his PhDs
to understand what Jim was trying to say.
“Yes,” Blair whispered, receiving one of Jim’s blinding and very rare smiles.
“Yes, forever, yes!” And then they kissed.
Hours later as Blair watched Jim sleep, he couldn’t help thinking that his
former little room under the stairs will make a great office.
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