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Dead Serious by Peruvian Gypsy

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Dead Serious


Here's an epilog for Dead Drop. Nothing to do with the longer story I'm
working on, but just a little thing that came to me today. Inspired by the
ep, and some list conversations. It bounces pov a bit, just because I felt
like it. So there. Characters belong to Pet Fly -- not me. No infringement intended.

Dead Serious

by Peruvian Gypsy

"I've been thinking about moving out of Cascade."

"*What*?" Blair half-laughed, looking up from the book he'd been studying. Jim's face however, was serious. "Why?"

"How can you ask why, after what happened this week? And it's just the last in a too-long line of near disasters. One of these days..." he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Blair abandoned the book, coming to sit beside Jim on the couch. He laid a comforting hand on his partner's thigh. "Jim, it's not your fault," he murmured in a soft voice. At Jim's surprised look he continued. "Simon told me what you said about me hanging around with you. But it's not your fault, any of it. It was my choice to make, and I chose to stay with you."

Said so simply, so easily, it brought a lump to Jim's throat. "It doesn't matter whether it's my fault or not, that's my point. If you can't even go into an antique shop to have a piece of art appraised...then I think this city is getting way too dangerous."

"That's why we need *you* Jim -- all of us here in Cascade. To keep the innocent safe. And I think I'm a hell of a lot safer around you than I would be anywhere else. You've got the edge, my friend."

"I didn't do you a hell of a lot of good in that elevator," he spat, full of self-recrimination. "You saved *yourself*. Not to mention all the other hostages. I let you down."

Blair sighed quietly. He started to rub the leg under his hand soothingly. "Newsflash, big guy -- you're not Superman. The only one who expects you to be, is you. Go easy on yourself, huh?"

"How can you...have any faith in me, after--"

Blair's fingers on his lips forcibly stopped him from continuing. "If I don't have any faith in you, then I can't have any faith in *anyone.*"

Jim was held by the truth in those clear blue eyes, he couldn't look away. "You could've..." The thought of Blair being gone was more than unbearable, for the man who'd seen and done and experienced a lot of terrible things in his military and police careers. It was sobering. It was more terrifying than anything in his past had been.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I *wouldn't* have survived this a year ago? That being with you, learning from you, is what saved us that day? That maybe I owe you for this one too? That maybe I'd be dead by now, if I'd never met you?"

"I'd rather not, thank you," Jim replied wryly.

"Rather not what?" Blair shot right back, "think about me being dead before now, or accept that my life has been enriched by having you in it, not screwed up?"

Jim's resistance was weakening slowly but surely. He never had much when it came to Blair anyway. "I just...worry," he said lamely.

Blair was not about to be sidetracked from his building tangent. "Like I don't?" he snorted. "Like I don't have even more to worry *about?*. Mr. I'm Indestructible insisting on performing all these super-human feats on a regular basis. Hang underneath a speeding train? No problem! Take on a whole compound full of drug dealing guerrillas almost single-handedly? Piece of cake! Catch a gang of golden dealers with the *slight* handicap of being blind? No big deal, folks! Yeah, you do a real convincing invincibility number, it's even hard for me not to believe it sometimes. But I try not to. Because I know that's dangerous."

Jim reached out a hand to trail fingers lightly down Blair's cheek. He'd had no idea his partner had been thinking these kinds of things. "You know...I wasn't alone in that compound in Peru, or when I was blind. I had you beside me. And when I was hanging from the train, only the thought of you, memory of the things you taught me kept me from zoning out and letting go."

"Now you're getting the idea," Blair nodded approvingly. "If you want to play Batman, I get to be your Robin. You're a Sentinel, it's in your blood to protect at all costs. But I'm your *Guide* Jim. I know you underestimate that sometimes, and I don't really mind. Except when it risks putting both of us in danger. I know you "cave-man" types are a bit dense sometimes, but don't you get it yet, Jim? We need *each other*."

The words and the pleading in his eyes broke through Jim's final barrier. He had no choice -- and he didn't want it any other way. He smiled. "Does that mean I get to see you in those red tights?" he said with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

Blair straddled Jim's lap, making himself comfortable. "Well... Halloween's coming up one of these months, if you're a *good* boy..."

"If I'm a *bad* boy, how about tomorrow night?"

Jim's rich voice in his ear sent shivers down Blair's spine. He laughed. "Hmm...only if I get to *explore* a few fantasies next."

Jim grabbed his face in both hands, stilling him. "You're like a fantasy come true just the way you are."

"Does that mean you don't want the tights after all?"

Jim's voice when he spoke was muffled by his lover's neck. "That means I want *you.*"

"Now?" Blair asked breathlessly, squirming in pleasure at the hot breath branding his skin.




"Then show me..." Blair whispered, quickly getting lost in the passion. "Show me how *bad* you can be..." Jim's hands on him stopped all further talk.

In the next instant, Blair felt the world tilt, and freefall with an intensity that rivaled the five story elevator drop. It was going to be a *good* night after all.

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