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Tell Me A Story

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Disclaimer: Pet Fly's got 'em. We want 'em. They want each other. No money changed hands - I'm *not* that kind of girl!

Introduction: Okay, so I know I said not to expect any more Sentinel slash from me any time soon. But these things happen, alright? I suppose this could be considered a sequel to You Know Who, which was a sequel to The Haunted Grove. But you don't need to read the previous stories to figure out what's going on here - it's all pretty obvious...

Archiving permitted, nay, encouraged. Just keep my name attached to this, even though that's not really my name...

Tell Me A Story

by "Emma Woodhouse"

Jim Ellison slammed the door of the car, and started across the police garage, while Blair scrambled to keep up. As they entered the elevator, Jim looked at Blair. Blair was giving him That Look. "I said, NO," Jim said firmly.

"But why not?" Blair asked beseechingly.

"Because it bothers me, that's all."

"But why, Jim? Why would it bother you? I mean it's not as if - "

The elevator doors were opening now, and Jim shot a warning look at Blair. As the two men headed down the hall, Blair looked quickly around. No one in earshot, so he continued in a whisper, "It's not as if *you're* going to be the one tied up."

Jim winced. To his sensitive hearing, Blair's whisper was as loud as a shout. He turned to Blair, beginning loudly, "NOBODY -" and then broke off as Blair's eyes widened. Then he dropped his voice and murmured, "Nobody's going to get tied up, okay? Now drop it."

"Awww."

Jim glanced down at Blair. His partner was pouting. Damn it.

They were approaching the reception area and security checkpoint, and Jim was thankful that Blair seemed to be dropping the subject. At least for now. He held out his badge to the uniformed officer manning, or rather womanning, the desk, and said, "Morning, Lucy."

"Morning, Detective Ellison," Lucy said professionally. Then more warmly, "Good morning, Blair."

Jim looked up sharply, to see Lucy giving Blair the once over, a very thorough visual sweep. Then he realized why, and tried not to sigh out loud.

Down another hall toward the office elevator, and Jim said in a soft aside to Blair, "You did it again."

"What?" Blair looked bewildered.

"We'll have a parade of visitors this morning, and it's all your fault."

"Jim? What are you talking about?"

"You tucked your shirt in this morning. I'll bet Lucy is sounding the alert right now, and pretty soon every female from Dispatch to Records is going to find some reason to be stopping by Major Crimes. So much for getting any work done."

Into the elevator, with Blair still puzzled. "I tucked my shirt in, and somehow that's a bad thing to do? I don't get it."

"But when you tuck your shirt in, and you're wearing *those* blue jeans, it becomes obvious that you're - uh - packing some serious heat, kid. You just wait. The Sandburg watch is being alerted, I guarantee it."

Out of the elevator, and Blair was laughing out loud. "Oh, come ON, Jim. You're fantasizing."

"Just wait and see," Jim said darkly.

Several hours later, Blair looked at Jim and gave an embarrassed shrug. First it had been Sandy from Dispatch, who decided this morning to deliver Detective Ellison's overnight messages in person. Then, Lydia from the typing pool 'found some typos' in some depositions, and brought the corrected copies for Jim's signature. Gerta from Internal Affairs came by to sign people up for the blood drive, and Tania from the Commissioner's office thought the folks down in Major Crimes might want to see her latest batch of baby pictures.

After Gerta's departure, Jim murmured, "That's pretty crude, using your baby pictures as an excuse for some crotch watching."

Blair hissed, "Jim!" and Jim chuckled. Blair was so cute when he blushed like that.

Then Betty from Juvenile came in to discuss a retirement luncheon, and Jim said, "Honestly, it's like sharing a desk with the Diet Coke guy!"

"With the *what* guy?" Blair asked.

"You know, that construction worker in the commercial who has to take his shirt off to drink a Diet Coke, and all the ladies in the office building have to run to the window to drool over him. That guy."

"Jim," Blair said desperately, "would you please just knock it off?"

At that moment, Captain Banks opened the door to his office, barking, "Ellison!"

Jim answered the summons, with Blair on his heels. "Here's to crime," Blair murmured.


The Ford Expedition drove slowly down the waterfront. Not the touristy, yachty part of the waterfront, but the working piers. The smell of fish was almost overpowering. Blair looked over at Jim, wondering how the Sentinel could even stand it. But Jim was frowning thoughtfully and checking the names of the fishing vessels tied up along the pier. Finally, he spoke into the cell phone.

"Okay, Simon. Tell Judge Landry we need a warrant to search the Cascade Belle." Pause, to listen to Simon. "Yeah, I'm sure. The cocaine's there. And get a move on it, before they offload."

Several hours later, the two men stood with Captain Banks on the pier, watching the owner and crew of the Cascade Belle being led off in handcuffs. The police team had been all through the fishing boat, and Blair was feeling a bit queasy.

Simon turned to Jim and asked in amazement, "Jim, did you really smell that cocaine? Are you going to put our K-9 units out of business?"

Jim laughed. "Well, now I can smell the cocaine. But any one of your officers could have told you it was this boat, if they'd just taken one whiff and thought about it for a minute."

"Uh, Jim," Blair said, "I've taken plenty of whiffs - a lot more than I care to. I don't get it."

Jim looked at Blair, and then at Simon, and both of them were looking puzzled. He shook his head in sorrow. "And both of you call yourselves fishermen. It wasn't the cocaine I smelled, Simon, it was the fish."

Simon looked about ready to strangle him. "Hell, Jim, I smell the fish too!"

"Well, don't you get it? Those fish were *not* caught today."

Light was finally dawning. Simon and Blair were nodding now, and Simon actually slapped his forehead.

"Our perps there were too busy picking up a load of cocaine to go fishing today," Jim concluded. "Those fish were caught yesterday." He inhaled, and added, "Or maybe the day before."

Now Simon was laughing. "Good one, Jim. Okay, nice catch."

Blair said plaintively, "Can we *leave* now? It's going to be a while before I feel the urge for seafood again."


Jim sat in the chair in front of the fire, while Blair sat on the floor, leaning against Jim's knees. Jim was combing Blair's wet hair with slow, hypnotic strokes. Both men were wearing terrycloth robes.

They had showered together, until every drop of the hot water was gone, and the clothes they had wore to the waterfront were churning in the washer, and even the washer sounded soothing to Blair right now. He nodded against Jim's knee, almost asleep, when Jim said softly, "Blair. This tying up business. Can you explain it to me?"

Blair turned eagerly to look up at his lover, and Jim added hastily, "I'm not going to do it, Blair. I just want to know why you want me to."

"Oh, God, Jim, it would just be so - " Blair broke off, and turned to stroke Jim's leg, bending down to kiss the calf. "I wish I could explain it."

"Try." Jim was playing with Blair's hair.

"Just so - *out there*, Jim," Blair said. "Like when you grab me by the hair and make me say I belong to you - " Blair gave a little shudder.

"You really like that, don't you?"

Blair slid up Jim's body and settled beside him in the chair, and put his arms around his lover. "Oh, totally, Jim. And if you'd just tie me up, it would all be so much *more* so. Man, I'd be *completely* at your mercy, you could do anything you want with me, and I'd be absolutely helpless."

Jim was nuzzling Blair's throat, gentle kisses and licks, and he murmured, "See, that's what I don't understand, Chief. Why do you want to be helpless?"

Blair pressed closer to Jim, stroking the back of his neck. "Because - well, it's just such an intense feeling, I guess. I never feel more totally, absolutely alive."

Jim thought about it. "You seem pretty much alive all the time to me," he said at last. "And, now I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but when you consider the difference in size and strength, you're at my mercy every night when we go to bed."

Blair gave a little gasp, and said into Jim's ear, "Yes. I know."

"So then, why - "

"Oh, Jim, it would just *feel* so much more - helpless and vulnerable and possessed. Why won't you do this for me?" Then very softly, "Don't you want to own me?"

It was Jim's turn to gasp, as he felt a powerful stirring in his groin. "No fair, Chief. What if I zoned out? What then?"

"You're changing the subject. When have you ever zoned out when we were having sex?"

"Well, true - I haven't yet. But I might. And then where would we be?"

Blair was thinking seriously now. "Hey, Jim. It never occurred to me before - why *don't* you zone out when we're having sex?" He slid off Jim's lap and said, "Beer?"

Jim nodded, and Blair went into the kitchen, returning with two opened beers. Jim said, "I think it's because I can't concentrate on one sense long enough to zone - there's just too much going on."

Blair sat back down beside Jim. "Yeah? I would have thought the touch sense would sort of take over."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But just when I'm concentrating on that, I get a whiff of you, and you smell different when you're aroused, and that really catches my attention. And then you'll do that little whimper, and that makes me kind of crazy. And your eyes get all dilated, so they look almost black, and your skin flushes all rosy, and I can feel the heat pouring off of you - " Jim buried his face in Blair's neck, mumbling against his skin, "You're just a complete sensory workout, Chief."

"And all of that would stay the same," Blair said triumphantly, "even if I were tied to the bed."

"The whole idea just doesn't feel right to me," Jim protested. "I could really hurt you if I wanted to, and you wouldn't even be able to try to get away."

"But you wouldn't hurt me, would you?" Blair said with quiet confidence.

"Is that why you want me to do this? To prove I wouldn't hurt you?"

"I don't know!" Blair was getting frustrated. "Jim, I can't explain this. Maybe it's a symbol, or a ritual, all I know is that the whole idea gets me so turned on I can hardly see straight."

Jim pulled Blair onto his lap, and settled him comfortably, running his fingers through Blair's hair, and said, "Describe it to me, Blair. Tell me what it would be like."

Blair sighed ecstatically, and leaned his cheek against Jim's chest. "Well, let's see. You call me up to the bedroom. I'm working on some stuff, but you tell me to get up there right now, and I know that tone of voice, so I go up the stairs. And then you tell me not to move and you undress me."

"I do?" Jim was surprised. "But I like watching you undress. You do it so - teasing."

"Well, this time you want to do it," Blair said. "And you just sort of - unwrap me real slow, and you're looking at me so hard, and I'm trying to hold still because you told me to."

"Okay. I like it so far."

"And then you tell me to get on the bed, and so I do, and you tell me to spread out, and put my hands over my head, and you've got these silk scarves, and you tie my hands to the railing." Blair was gently stroking Jim's chest, turning his head occasionally to kiss the hard muscle. His eyes were almost closed.

"Then you go down to the foot of the bed, and tie my ankles to the legs of the bed, and now I'm all tied up." Blair gave a happy sigh.

"And you can't move at all?" Jim sounded worried.

"Oh, yes, I can move some," Blair explained. "You left some slack to the cords. Said you were going to make me squirm."

Jim swallowed hard. "You are a squirmy little thing," he said hoarsely. "Okay. So now you're tied up. And how does that make you feel?"

"Wonderful," Blair whispered. "I belong to you, and you're going to use me, and I've already got an erection, and I want you to touch me so bad."

"So then I touch you," Jim suggested.

"No, not yet. You just sit beside me, and look at me for a long time. And I'm trying to hold still, but I can't help wiggling a little bit, and I'm trying to look real attractive, so you'll really want me."

Jim groaned. "Oh, GOD, Chief! You know I want you, I always want you." He tightened his arms around Blair, and kissed the top of his head.

"And now you touch me," Blair went on. "Real light touches, just the tips of your fingers, all over my body. Real light. Just teasing. Making me want more. You barely touch my nipples, and they're so hard, and I'm trying to push up, trying to get you to touch me more, but that just makes you move away."

"Poor Blair," Jim said sadly. He was gently stroking his lover's chest now, and pushed Blair's hair back to allow him to kiss and suck Blair's throat.

"And you very lightly run your fingers up the inside of my thighs, so lightly it's like a breeze, and then the softest brush over my balls, and my cock is so hard it's aching, Jim, and I can't help moaning now, I want you so bad. And then you move up beside me, and kiss me."

Jim kissed Blair on the lips. Then he moved to Blair's ear, and whispered, "Go on," before running his tongue around the inside of the ear.

Blair hissed sharply, and continued. "You suck on my nipples, and pinch them, and I'm trying to press up into your mouth, I just want it everywhere, Jim, and I can't touch you."

There was a long pause. Blair had his face tucked into Jim's neck, and he was stroking Jim's chest and arms, panting softly.

Finally, Jim said, "And then what happens?"

"And then - you leave."

"I *leave*?" Jim couldn't believe it.

"Yes," Blair said tragically. "You get up off the bed, and you *leave* me!"

"That's awful!"

"Isn't it?" Blair agreed. "And there I am, wanting you so bad, Jim, I just so hot and so hard, and you put on your jacket and go away!"

"Wait a minute. You mean, I leave the building altogether, and leave you tied to the bed?"

"Yes." Blair was almost in tears.

"Well, that's irresponsible!" Jim said angrily. "What if the building caught fire, or something?"

Blair thumped him impatiently on the shoulder. "The building isn't going to catch fire, Jim."

"How do you know that?"

"Because this is my fantasy, damn it, and I don't fantasize about being trapped in a burning building."

"Oh. Okay. So I've gone away."

"Right." Blair picked up the thread of his narrative. "So you go down to the corner deli for some coffee. And there I am, just *desperate*, Jim, and I can't even touch myself. And before you leave, you kiss me, and just sort of tickle my cock a bit, and you say, 'Stay hard for me, baby, I'll be back in a while.'"

Jim gave a mournful sigh. "That's just so cruel. Would I be that mean to you?"

Blair twisted around on Jim's lap and gave his partner a fervent kiss. "You're just making me wait, Jim. Just to make sure I remember who I belong to."

"But how can *I* wait?" Jim wanted to know.

"It's not easy, is it? You tell yourself you're going to stay away for half an hour, but you're sitting there at the counter in the deli, and you know I'm back at home waiting for you, just totally hot and ready and available, completely vulnerable, wanting you to take me, use me - "

Both men had erections now, and Jim repositioned Blair on his lap, so that he could press his cock against Blair's ass. Oh, that felt good! He reached down and began to lightly stroke Blair, and Blair hissed, and squirmed a little in Jim's lap, and Jim gasped.

"So after about twenty minutes, you can't stand waiting any more," Blair said, in a tight voice. "And you come home."

"And you're waiting for me," Jim said.

"Yes," Blair agreed. "I'm waiting, and I'm so anxious, and I'm still hard, and you can hear my heartbeat. I hear the key in the door, and hear you come in, and I'm begging now."

"Oh, Jesus," Jim whispered.

"I'm begging for you to come back to me, Jim, and touch me. Do me, fuck me, use me - oh, god, Jim, get back here and let me come!"

"I'm running up the stairs now," Jim insisted.

"Right." This time, Blair accepted Jim's editorial input. "And you're ripping off your clothes, because you have to have me now."

"Oh, man, Chief, do I ever!"

"And you're on top of me now, and I can feel your skin all over my body, and I'm moaning and sweating, and you're kissing me, really hard, and biting, and my poor cock is finally getting touched and I'm squirming under you, pressing up against you, wanting you, crying for you - oh, and I didn't mean to yet, but I'm coming now, and it's spurting all over us, and I'm laughing and shouting, and then you sit back, and grab my hips and lift me up, so you can push into me."

Jim groaned aloud, and bit down on Blair's shoulder. He was thrusting now, against Blair's ass, and Blair was moving against him, and his hand tightened on Blair's erection.

"You're filling me now, and I'm completely full of you, and you're fucking me hard, Jim, and I love it so much I just can't stand it. It's tight and hot, and you're so hard you're like steel, ramming into me, taking me, possessing me, and - oh, please come inside me, Jim - "

Blair lifted his head up, reaching blindly, and Jim bent down and covered Blair's mouth with his own, as his hand tightened around Blair's cock and he was moving faster against Blair, and now Blair was coming for real, and the slippery fluid slid down Jim's hand, and he pushed against Blair and he was coming too, and they were both crying out the other's name.

For a few moments, they panted together in the chair, and then Jim murmured into Blair's ear, "You tell an interesting story, Chief."

"Glad you like it."

"Do I untie you now?"

"Oh, no. You leave me tied up all night. So you can use me whenever you want to, and you want to a *lot*, Jim. You use me all night long, over and over again, because I'm yours, and I belong to you."

Jim turned Blair around, to gain easier access to his lover's lips, and they kissed one another again and again.

"So what do you think, Jim? Want to try it sometime?"

"Maybe."

Several nights later, Blair lay in the king sized bed, naked, a scarf tied around one wrist.

Jim took the other end of the scarf, and reached toward the railing, looping the scarf over it.

And then he sat on the bed, very still for a long time, and he was breathing heavily, but this time Blair didn't think it was a good sign.

Suddenly, Jim grabbed the scarf, and untied it from Blair's wrist with fingers that were trembling. He threw the scarf on the floor, and turned away from his young lover.

Finally, he said softly, "I'm sorry, Blair. I just can't."

Blair slid up, until he was pressed against Jim's back, and put his arms around him. "It's okay, Jim." Jim's head was bowed, and Blair kissed the back of his neck. "This isn't just a philosophical stand, is it, Jim?"

"No," Jim whispered.

"There's some history here, right?"

Jim nodded.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Jim shook his head. Finally croaked, "I can't."

"That's okay. C'mere, Jim."

Jim turned at last, and sank into Blair's arms. Blair stroked Jim's hair for a long time before Jim fell asleep.


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