Blair sat back, eyes roaming over the screen of his laptop, various words jumping out at him as he scanned the document: Sentinel, senses, control, testing... He'd read it over and over again and he felt it was done, finally, but there was one more thing he really needed to do before it was ready to be submitted to his dissertation committee.
One thing that he'd been putting off the whole time, one thing that he shouldn't even have done in the first place.
It was silly, actually. Something he wouldn't allow a freshman anthropology student to do. Something nobody ever did.
Something he'd never done himself, before.
One more word jumped out at him as he scrolled through the dissertation: Ellison.
Yes, he'd used the name of his subject. He'd written James Ellison, Ellison, Detective Ellison, Jim Ellison all through the document.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Blair would never have used the name of his primary research subject in any paper he'd ever written before this. But ever since he'd met Jim, started taking notes on the man who was his holy grail, the man who had five heightened senses, the man he'd searched for his whole adult life, he really couldn't stop himself from writing his name in his dissertation.
He knew he'd never turn it in that way. He knew he should have changed it before he got this close to being finished. It would only take a minute or two to globally remove Jim's name from it and replace it with Subject Smith or whatever he finally decided would be the best fake name to use.
But for some reason he just couldn't do it yet.
Blair liked the intimacy of having Jim's real name in his work. It was his private, naughty secret, that he could write Jim's name over and over again, telling what Jim could do with his senses, telling about Jim's strengths and weaknesses, his gifts, his fear based choices, everything he had learned about Jim Ellison.
Using Jim's name was like kissing someone when they were asleep. Like fantasizing about someone while you masturbated. Like dreaming you were their lover.
Blair couldn't kiss Jim, even when Jim was asleep. He had fantasized about Jim when he masturbated... a few times, until the embarrassment he felt looking at Jim the next day had become too much. He had dreamed Jim was his lover... he couldn't help his dreams, could he?
And he'd put Jim's name in his dissertation. He really should take it out. He'd do it, yes he would. Before he printed it out. Before he turned it in. But maybe not before he read it over one more time.
He let his eyes roam over the words on the screen one more time, then saved the document and shut down the program.
Naomi burst into the loft, surprising him....
"Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable."
--Sidney J. Harris