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Wolf Whistles 2

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Wolf Whistles 2

by Texas Ranger

Author's disclaimer: I did not knock on Pet Fly's door and ask if Jim and Blair could come out and play, knowing that the answer would be no, as I am a bad influence. I'm making no money by writing this, so leave the lawyers in their slimepit.


"Ah...ahhh...ahCHOO!" Jim doubled over in a mad sneezing fit, startling his lycanthrope lover.

*Damn, man, spray me with your germs, why don't you!* Blair shook himself, trying to convince the germs they'd be happier somewhere other than his pelt.

"Uh, Blair-" explosive sneeze "-I don't know how to say this, but-" sniffle "-I think I'm allergic to you. No offense. Do you think you could sleep downstairs in your old room?" He patted his mate's head.

*Sure, sure. I know when I'm not wanted* Blair jumped down off the bed and headed for the stairs. *I have to piss outside in the rain, my tail is constantly being assaulted by the clumsy, and now my lover is allergic to me. I've had it up to here with this Lon Chaney Jr. bullshit, friends and neighbors.*

Blair nosed open the door to the downstairs room and curled up on the bed, nose to tail. He felt bad about the irritable thoughts aimed at Jim; after all, Blair's journey into wolfdom wasn't Jim's fault, but someone had to be blamed, and with nary an old gypsy woman in sight, Jim was it.

*I'm cold!* Blair groused. *How could anyone with this much fur be this freezing? Jim can't help his allergies, but-hey, idea!*

Blair padded into the kitchen and pawed open a drawer. He sifted through the contents until he came up with what he was looking for. Clutching his prize in his teeth, he bounded up the stairs and onto the bed next to Jim.

"Chief, what are you...ahCHOO!...doing?" Jim scowled. "I love you, but...AHCHOO!..."

Blair dropped the box onto Jim's stomach and stood back.

"Benadryl?" Jim grinned. "Why didn't I think of that?"

*Probably because you sneezed your brain out your ear. No harm, no foul, Rambo* Blair curled up to his Sentinel and closed his eyes.

"Blair?"

*Huh?* Blair opened one eye.

"I can't take these without something to drink. How about a bottle of Coke?" Jim smiled. "Please?" he amended.

*Awww! They're so cute when they beg* Blair jumped down off the bed with a grunt and headed for the fridge. He grabbed the Coke in his mouth and carried it upstairs and delivered it to Jim. *Tomorrow we see what can be done about training you.*

He stretched out next to the big cop and licked his cheek. *Good night, Jim. I love you in spite of all the lame jokes about installing doggie doors and feeding me Purina Wolf Chow.*


Blair woke up to the sound of Jim clanking around downstairs. He yawned, stretched, and padded downstairs, following the smell of fresh bacon and eggs.

"Morning, Chief." Jim dished out a generous helping and laid it on the floor.

*Morning, Jim* Blair jumped up and placed a slobbery kiss on his lover's lips. He turned his attention to his plate and devoured breakfast in seconds flat. *More?*

But Jim was strapping on his holster and reaching for his keys. "Okay, I have to go in for at least half a day, but I'll get home as soon as I can. Maybe I can claim personal emergency or something."

Blair cocked his ears forward. *What? Whoa, Rambo, you're not going anywhere without me.* He blocked Jim's exit and laid a big paw on the Sentinel's leg.

Jim frowned. "You're not going, Blair."

Blair planted himself in front of Jim in the classic watchdog position. *Then neither are you.*

Sentinel and Guide stared each other down until Jim finally sighed. "Okay, come on." Blair moved so he could open the door. "But I have no idea how I'll explain you to Simon. The old 'He's my cousin' speech just won't cut it this time."


Stopped at a red light, Jim suddenly got that "duhhh" look on his face that meant he was listening. He frowned. "Mugging in progress," he explained, swinging the truck into a nearby alley.

Caught off-guard, Blair skidded across the slick seat and barely managed to catch the seatbelt with his teeth. *Gotta see about getting me a harness if this keeps up*

Jim skidded to a halt and jumped out of the truck. "Stay," he ordered sternly, and took off down the alley.

*Oh, I know you did not just say that!* Blair fumed. *Fine. Be that way. I'll just stay right here and concentrate on being a wolf.* He closed his eyes and tried to meditate, but his legs refused to bend to the lotus position. *Aw, hell!* He gave up and leaped out through the open window.

Down the alley, Blair could see a man holding a knife to a woman's throat. Jim had his gun drawn in what looked like a classic standoff.

"I'll kill her!" the mugger threatened, pressing the knife into the woman's skin. She cried out.

"Put it down," Jim warned. "Right now you're looking at armed robbery. Don't make it murder."

Blair could smell the woman's fear, but none from the man. *He's not afraid to die* Blair thought. *Jim's gun isn't making an impression, so here goes.* He growled softly, just loud enough for the gunman to hear.

The man turned to where Blair was hidden in the shadows. "What the fuck was that?"

Blair stepped into the light, snarling. *Okay, add a little foam around the lips...not too much. Raise the fur on the back of the neck. Crouch down a little. Perfect!*

Now, the fear was pouring off the man as he watched the big wolf slink toward him. The knife trembled in his hand. "What the fuck?"

"That's my partner," Jim said conversationally. "He's a trained police wolf, and he's about three seconds away from giving you a radical tracheotomy. I'd consider dropping the knife and letting the lady go."

The man hesitated, paralyzed by fear.

"Okay," Jim sighed. "Sic him, Chief!"

Blair tensed his powerful hind legs and sprung, knocking the would-be mugger flat and pinning him with his front paws. He snapped his jaws at the man's throat for effect. *I really hate bullies, man. I'd bite you if I didn't think you'd give me rabies.* Blair compromised by growling and dripping wolf spit on the man's nose.

When the mugger had been taken away, the woman approached shyly. "Can I pet him?" she asked Jim.

Jim smiled. "Sure. He loves the ladies."

*Used to love the ladies, before I hooked up with you, Rambo. That's all behind me now.* Blair wagged his tail and offered his head to be stroked.

The woman knelt and ruffled Blair's ears. "You're such a good boy, Chief," she praised, rubbing noses with him. "What would I have done if you hadn't come along?"

*Ohhh, man!* Blair gushed. *If it weren't for Jim, I'd ask for your phone number. But I'm his, and besides* he sighed *I don't think I'm able to dial a phone right now.*

The woman planted a kiss on Blair's muzzle and stood up. "Thank you, too, Detective Ellison," she called over her shoulder.

" 'Thank you, too'?" he mimicked when they were safely back in the truck. "I was the one with the gun."

*Big deal. I was the one with the fangs*

"I mean, I should've at least gotten a kiss," Jim grumped good-naturedly. He looked over at his lover. "You know, Sandburg, you start stealing my thunder and I'll have to give you to the animal shelter."

*You're hilarious, Ellison. A regular George fucking Carlin*

Jim started the truck. "I guess we'd better go find some way to explain you to Simon." He sighed. "I'll take the scenic route today, Gives me more time to think up a plausible lie.

"No, Commissioner," Simon Banks was saying patiently, "I'm sure we don't have any police wolves." He held the reciever away from his ear and looked it up and down as though that's where the wolves were coming from. "I don't know, either, sir, but-no, I'm positive my detectives aren't riding with-" he trailed off as Jim came through his door, Blair loping at his side. Simon's jaw tried its best to make contact with the floor. "I'll call you back," he said slowly, eyeing the hallucination that had accompanied his best detective into his office. "Detective Ellison," he said evenly, "that wouldn't be a wolf, now would it?"

Jim scratched the back of his neck before answering. "Yes, Simon. Well, sort of."

Simon nodded. "And how can it be 'sort of' a wolf? Isn't that like being kinda dead? Being a wolf is really an all-or-nothing thing, isn't it?"

"Simon, there's really a good explanation," Jim laughed nervously.

"I just bet there is."

"You see..."

Jim paused, and Blair could almost see him searching for a plausible lie. *Just don't tell him the truth, Jim*

"ThisisBlair," Jim said in a rush.

"You named the wolf after Sandburg?" Simon asked, blissfully clueless.

"No, I mean the wolf is Sandburg."

*Oh, good one, man! Now you'll go to the rubber room and I'll go to the Cascade Zoo!*

Simon blinked. "The wolf is Sandburg?"

Jim nodded.

"Your partner-Blair-turned into this animal?"

Jim nodded.

Simon smiled, a deceptively friendly gesture. "Jim, my friend, how would you feel about a nice vacation?"

"I'm not crazy, Simon," Jim protested. "This is Blair." He gestured toward the wolf.

"Of course it is," Simon said soothingly. His smile got bigger and friendlier, which could only mean he was getting closer to signing the committal papers.

*Okay, this is getting us nowhere* Blair bounded up to Simon's desk, nosed open the top drawer, and brought out a pencil. Holding it carefully in his mouth, he used painstaking head and tongue motions to write on a handy sheet of paper:

//Hi, Simon. I'm Blair. Really. Wolf now. Help.//

Simon stared at the note expressionlessly. Finally, he looked up at Jim. "His penmanship sucks." He looked back at Blair. "Sandburg? Is that really you?"

Blair nodded. *Bing! You win the Kewpie doll!*

Jim headed off the question at the pass. "We don't know how, but yesterday he woke up like this and I have no idea how to change him back."

"So, you're telling me Blair could go around looking like an extra from The Howling indefinitely?"

"Well...yeah," Jim admitted.

Simon sighed. "Okay. Take the week off. Go find a way to make Sandburg human again." He reached out and petted the anthropologist's back. "By the way, Blair, nice work this morning."

Blair wagged. *Thanks, Simon, but if you think I'm gonna lick your hand, think again*

They left the captain with yet another Sandburg/Ellison-related problem and tried to look inconspicuous walking through the bullpen.

Right.

They were immediately up to their knees in co-workers. "Jim, what's with the new partner?" Brown cracked. "Finally decided to switch to one with less hair?"

*Uh huh. Every smart remark is going on your karma, Henri*

"Where is Blair, anyway?" Taggert asked, reaching down to ruffle Blair's ears.

Jim shrugged innocently. "University, I think. Something about a project. Might not be here for awhile."

"That's too bad," Rafe said, taking his turn with Blair's ears. "I miss him when he's not around."

Brown grinned. "Yeah, me too. I kid him, but he's a pretty good guy."

"No one better to have at your back," Joel agreed. "Always so cheerful, always a kind word for everyone. It's dull around here when Blair's gone."

Blair's tail wagged harder. *Aw, guys! Wow.* The more they praised him, the more his tail whipped. *Come on, guys, you're embarassing me. Also, my ass is tired.* He tugged at Jim's hand.

Jim took the hint. "I'll catch up with you later," he called to his friends, and followed Blair out the door. He made sure Blair was safely in the truck before climbing in himself. "Whew!" Jim remarked, wrinkling his nose and sniffing in Blair's direction. "No offense, Blair, but you smell like dog and you're shedding. Bath time."

*Sorry, Jim* Blair thought remorsefully. *I probably smell like Johnny Depp looks. Bad news for a Sentinel nose. Besides,* he grinned *you haven't bathed me in weeks. I was starting to think I'd lost my sex appeal.*


Blair stepped out of the tub carefully, one paw at a time. He'd gotten a pretty good handle on the four-legged balance thing, but he knew from second-hand experience that quadrupeds and bathtubs were simply not meant to be. But the alternative was the garden hose and severe loss of dignity, so Blair preferred to risk the tub.

Jim immediately wrapped him in a towel and began to rub vigorously, towelling the excess water off Blair's pelt. He frowned critically. "This just isn't working. Gonna have to use the dryer."

He rooted through the cabinet, came up with the hair dryer, and aimed it at his Guide. Blair laid his ears flat against his skull as the warm air hit him, sending loose fur flying. It felt good, and he was sorry when the flow was cut off.

Jim took one look at the big wolf and burst out laughing.

*What? What's so funny?*

"You-" Jim gasped. "You-go look in the mirror!"

Blair padded into his old room and took a good look in the floor length mirror. The dryer had caused his fur to puff up all over his body, making him look like a refugee from the '80's big hair era.

Jim followed him into the room, still snorting. "You look like a big ball of dryer lint!" he howled, knees giving out and depositing him on his ass. "Blair the French poodle!"

Blair grinned and wagged his tail frantically. *And you thought Afros were out of style.* He nuzzled Jim's chin. *Come on, Jim. Wipe those tears shed at my expense off your face and let's go watch some tv.*

Jim seemed to be on the same wavelength. "Let's go watch some tv, Chief," he suggested, hauling himself up off the floor. "Maybe Lassie is on."