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Blair Sandburg hadn't had a date in over three months and it was starting to tell....oh, not on him, he was fine. Dandy, really. But on several others. Like the detectives of Major Crimes, who'd come to depend on Blair for their vicarious thrills, or the women of the Cascade Police Department, who depended on Blair for their fun and exercise? Of course, it could be argued that the women were getting more exercise than ever....what with the million *more* trips up to Major Crimes that they were now making, trips to flirt, to oggle, and to entice. And it could also be argued that the detectives of Major Crimes were now reaping the benefits of these extra trips, because as the women kept striking out, and the hemlines rose and the cleavage dropped, (in some extreme cases, *dropped out*), well, the view from the bullpen *had* improved ~ drastically. And then there was the fallout. After all, a woman who suddenly found herself unable to get to first base with Sandburg, well, there were plenty of other fish in the squadroom..... Simon Banks was also suffering from Blair Sandburg's dateless condition and one of these days, he was afraid he'd kill. After all, how many times *could* he successfully negotiate the trip to the donut cart, stepping over, under, and around the many women flitting about Ellison's desk and Ellison's partner, without accidently, on purpose, killing one of them? A dateless Blair was fast becoming a dangerous Blair. At least to Simon. And his men were being seriously hampered in their heroic crime stopping efforts, because they were just too damn busy catching the fallout. And oggling. And Blair? Well, Mr.Sandburg had suddenly decided three months ago, that he wasn't getting any younger and that he really should settle down, find a permanent relationship, and be happy. So he looked around. And found out that he was *already* settled down, *already* in a permanent relationship and was *already* happy. There was just one, teeny, tiny problem. James Ellison was the *who* Blair was settled down with, the *who* Blair was happiest around and the *who* in the permanent. Okay, James Ellison, at 6'2, was hardly a teeny, tiny problem. But he was a man. And so far, this perfect, happy, permanent relationship lacked one little, teeny, tiny thing. Sex. Not that Blair really needed sex. Okay, he did. A lot. Especially sex with James Ellison. Which brought Blair to his current predicament. He was off the market, because he was, in his own mind, now *attached*, but the man he was attached *to* didn't know it. So, short of getting a skywriter to take care of the knowing bit....which Blair suspected would make Jim a bit angry, he needed to find a way to tell him. And talking, blurting, was not the way. But Blair Sandburg was a scientist. Not the lab kind, not the mathmatical kind, the study of human nature kind, and who had he been studying exclusively, for the last three years? His teeny, tiny problem, that's who. So all he needed to do was apply his scientific mind to the problem, use all the data he'd accumulated, and formulate a plan. He was good at that, formulating plans. This could work. 69696969696969696969696969696969696969 Desk. Pen. Legal pad. Women who had tried/succeeded in seducing Blair Sandburg. How? And would their methods work for him? He scribbled furiously. 1. Show off their best feature. a. Breasts, legs 2. Elegant little touches 3. Graceful movements a. Hips swaying 4. Invade personal space a. Always appearing accidental He scribbled even more furiously. 1. NO BREASTS a. Ass? Many women seemed to find his ass desireable, but Jim? 2. Touch the man all the time ~ NOW a. Change location of touches? 3. Graceful movements? Blair Sandburg? NOT! a. Hips? Swaying? Ass wiggling? (that could work, maybe) 4. Invade personal space? a. Jim doesn't have any ~ I took that away from him years ago. Blair Sandburg chewed on the top of his pen. This was going to be harder than he thought. Okay, new tact. Techniques used by Blair Sandburg to get a woman into his bed: 1. Compliments 2. Flowers and candy (hey, I'm an old fashioned guy!) 3. Theater tickets, Opera tickets 4. Dinner at La Croix 5. Soft glances, just for her 6. Soft touches, caring, concerned, soothing 7. Kisses a. A real hit....note: I'm a real good kisser He looked at his notes and scribbled furiously. 1. Compliment him on what? His investigative techniques? Yeah, that'll bowl him over. 2. Flowers and Candy? For Jim? a. How about new bullets? Flies for his tackle box? Although, he does like Hershey Kisses...um.... 3. Theater tickets? Jim? Opera? a. Note: Basketball season is over.... b. Harlem GlobeTrotters due next week 4. Dinner at La Croix? a. Bring home Wonderburger, with the works 5. Soft glances? Jim wouldn't know a soft glance if it hit him on the head.....sexy, come hither glances? No, Jim would have him arrested. Or committed. 6. Soft touches? a. Jim needs to get hurt. Scratch that. Note to myself: Just how desperate am I? (Um....maybe I could trip him?) 7. Kisses I would definitely be the bottom in jail. Summary: Wonderburger, Harlem GlobeTrotter tickets, Hershey Kisses and flies. This is not going to work. Blair put the pen down. Start over? He ripped the paper off the pad, tore it into strips and dumped into his wastepaper basket. He picked up the pen, but stopped as he heard his permanent relationship enter the loft. Moaning. 69696969696969696969696969696969696969 "Jim? What the hell happened?" His partner was limping, wincing, and groaning as he made his way over to the couch. He flopped down, sighing heavily in the process. "Chased Lambini. Six blocks. Caught him. Went down. Hard. He was on top." Okay, that was a vision Blair didn't need. Max Lambini was 6'5, and 250 pounds. Blair noticed the blood. "Jim, you're bleeding." "Yeah. Glass. Didn't I mention the plate glass window?" "Gosh, no. You skipped that part." "Caught him and tackled him. Through a plate glass window. How could I have skipped that part?" Blair took in the many tears in Jim's jeans, shirt and the myriad of cuts on his face. Time for the bandaids and bactine. But damn, Jim was such a baby. "Hang on, I'll get first aid stuff, and why didn't you go to the hospital?" "For this? Don't be ridiculous. A few cuts, no problem." Blair shook his head all the way *into* the bathroom and all the way out. He clucked too. "Tsk, tsk, Jim. You want to take off those jeans? Or would you prefer I cut them off?" As Jim opened his fly and slipped the pants down his hips, and as Blair oh, so kindly helped by pulling them the rest of the way, the younger man suddenly had a number go *boing* in his brain..... Number 6 - soft touches "Okay, Jim, this is going to sting, I've got to wash out the cuts, so just dial it down, okay?" And he kept his voice low, and he hoped, sexy, but a helpful kind of sexy. "Yeah, yeah, just do it, Sandburg." Carefully, lovingly, he began to clean, letting his arm brush skin, thinking that maybe, on his knees, in front of his happiness, maybe he made an appealing picture? He leaned forward, as if to study one particular cut, and just happened to let his hair brush over Jim's groin......"Um, this one is kinda deep, Jim. It's gonna hurt." Jim's hips bucked up as Blair gently dabbed with the washcloth. "Fuck! That hurt!" "Ssh, I'm sorry, almost done, just a bit more, I'm working as gently as I can, come on, dial it down." His hands continued their ministrations, and he knew, just knew, Florence Nightengale had nothing on him. He was a fucking genius. Gentle, caring, but was he sexy? He pushed himself up, hands on other side of Jim's body and looked at his face. "These cuts aren't too bad, Jim. I'll just clean them up, mostly on the left side of your face, and then spray with the Bactine. Done in a minute, okay?" Jim just groaned. And shut his eyes ~ tight. Blair leaned in, and began to clean the cuts and scrapes on Jim's left cheek and temple, letting his chest rest against Jim's, and again, allowing his hair to brush against the older man. The permanent relationship moaned again. And Blair jumped back, two feet, surprise written all over his face, because he'd felt Jim's answer to his careful nursing, namely the man's erection, pressed against his stomach. And then he tripped. And fell on the coffee table and rolled unceremoniously *off* the coffee table and onto the floor, hitting his mouth against the sharp edge on his way down. He lay there, stunned, blinking up, wondering what the hell had happened. Jim dropped down to his knees beside him, wincing, but concerned. "Chief? You okay?" He nodded, and licked his lip and tasted the blood. "You're bleeding, Chief. I'd better take care of that." Jim bent down and carefully ran his tongue over the cut, lapping up the small bit of blood. Blair moaned. "uh, jim?" "Sssh, I'm sorry, almost done, working as gently as I can.....". And he licked Blair's lips again, and smiled, wickedly, then the tongue rested against the closed lips, waiting. Blair pushed him away, just a bit, and said,"But I didn't get to use my wiggle." Jim frowned, then decided it wasn't worth asking about, after all, he was dealing with Sandburg, so he pushed against the hands and the hands weakened and his body dropped back down and his tongue flicked out and was grabbed by an eager mouth, and Jim decided he'd made the right decision after all, in coming home and letting Sandburg render his first aid, instead of going to the hospital, like Simon had suggested, and he felt good, because another criminal was off the streets and Blair had stopped dating and Jim, being the detective he was, had figured out why, and had graciously decided to help Blair with figuring out the *how*, even if it meant more bandaids and bactine. The kissing stopped, and Jim moaned in need, but Blair but his mouth to Jim's ear and whispered, "if you'd just let me finish this whole seduction thing, you could've had wonderburger and harlem globe trotter tickets." And Jim placed his hands on either side of his permanent relationship's head, digging his fingers into the hair, and whispered back, "this is better than wonderburger, better than the globe trotters," and sliding one hand down, to cup a delicious ass....he added, "but I do want to see that wiggle." Blair Sandburg's last conscious thought was that this seduction thing wasn't so hard after all, especially when you had help from the seductee, and maybe he should do the wonderburger and globetrotter tickets anyway? *And* it looked like he was a bottom here too.
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