Blair winced as he watched Jim tumble down the stairs; the pitbull terrier's teeth fastened tightly to his ass. Man, that was going to be *painful*, he thought.
In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but feel a little smug. He was the one who had said, 'What about the dogs, guys?' as they'd stood outside the drugs lab, waiting to break down the door.
Now, Henri Brown was playing hide and seek with a very large and angry Rottweiler and Jim was looking at a serious ass stitching job and a list of shots as long as your arm.
"I hate to say I told you so, but..." he said with a sigh, as three brother officers pried open the pitbull's jaws and Jim finally quit screaming...
Once he caught his breath, Jim glared. Or as close to the patented Ellison glare as he could get considering he was in immense pain, and living proof of the fact that recklessness could indeed come back to bite you on the ass.
The commotion as the Rottweiler was restrained, and Henri made his escape, went totally unnoticed by Jim. He was too busy grinding his teeth to dust, as he was lowered face down onto a stretcher.
Pain management... that was the answer. He tried not to think of the medical attention that he was going to need. Instead, he used his control over his senses to dial the pain down as far as he could... and pictured the round, firm cheeks of another ass. The ass that belonged to his ever-present, ever-loving, ever-helpful partner who had actually seen fit to say 'I told you so' in the midst of his predicament. And what he'd like to do... 'Wait 'til I get hold of *your* ass... won't sound so smug then'.
All the way to the hospital, with Blair riding beside him, Jim kept his eyes shut, and tried to occupy his pain-distracted brain...
"Does that, er...hurt?" Blair said suddenly.
Jim clenched his jaw. Painfully, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his partner, "Of course it fu...." he snarled, before noting that Blair's eyes had widened and he looked for all the world like a whipped puppy...puppy... Shit, he had to stop thinking dogs. "Yes, Sandburg. It hurts," he said, mentally twisting those dials down as low as they could go.
"You'll look back on this and laugh someday, man." Blair smiled. "Trust me!"
"Trust you?" Jim growled.
Blair snorted derisively, "Hey, *I* was the one who said that going in there without animal control was a *bad* idea, remember?"
"How could I forget?" Jim said through clenched teeth.
"If you hadn't pissed off that woman from animal control this morning, you wouldn't now have an ass that has just turned a delicate shade of purple. Purple *is* a very regal color though, most royalty through the ages has considered purple the color of..."
Jim was sure that if he ever looked back on this day and laughed, it would be the day that the men in white coats came to deliver him to a padded room. There was no way that he would *ever* consider this damned situation humorous.
At least the pain was better. Sentinel senses and Sentinel pride hadn't stopped him from accepting a painkiller. He had ended up inside the hospital enough times in recent years for the doctors to be aware of his medical reactions.
But, there was still the fact that person after person, in the form of doctors and nurses and whatnot, had filed into the room and had a good look at his ass. Poking, prodding, needling, and stitching the abused flesh that lay exposed to the open air. His rear end had never gotten so much attention, not even that time that Blair had...
His thoughts were cut off at the sound of a bellow outside his door.
"He did *what*!? And got bit *where*?!"
Simon had arrived.
Jim groaned, and it had nothing to do with the pain in his ass... unless you meant the curly-haired one outside the room filling Simon in on the Great Pitbull Debacle. He sighed, thinking that although this latest incident had been his own fault, he was sure that his life had been much simpler before Sandburg... yet as he concentrated on relaxing, his mind was filled with wide blue eyes, and a special smile.
'Oh yeah, life BS,' Jim thought with a sigh, 'Before Sandburg'. Yes, his loft was quiet, tidy, and never had weird smells. He never had to worry about anyone following him into a dangerous situation unarmed. And he *never* had anyone whispering 'I told you so' when he had a pitbull attached to his ass.
But, he also never had anyone who really looked out for him, never went home to a warm smile and a welcoming hug when he'd had a bad day, and certainly never had a strong, hairy body to cuddle up to at night. Despite all of his initial misgivings, his life with Blair was most certainly a blessing not a curse.
"Jim." Blair's face peeped around the door. "You don't mind if Simon and the guys come get a look at that ass do you?" he grinned. His eyes were bright with mischief, and his smile illuminated the room.
"Be my guest," Jim replied with a sigh.
"Awww... lighten up, Jim. I was just teasing. But Simon is outside to help get you home. I told him I would take care of your end of the paperwork on this one." Blair couldn't suppress a giggle. "No pun intended, man."
"Sorry, Jim... really."
Blair didn't sound particularly sorry, but Jim let that pass. He had other things on his mind. Like getting up, and getting dressed, and actually getting his ass (excuse his expression) to a car. The idea of *moving* seemed very unpleasant. The process of swinging off of the table would mean flexing some sore muscles, and standing, bending, walking... all were activities that he wasn't looking forward to. Not to mention the fact that his pants were a ragged mess.
"No, Sandburg, I think I'll need a little help..."
Blair was surprised. Not that he had a problem doing whatever Jim needed; he just hadn't expected Jim to actually ask. He had planned on just hanging around, keeping watch, and trying to assist on the sly.
"No problem, big guy." He got Jim up with a minimum of hassle. "Although you understand, I much prefer *un*dressing you." When Jim was as presentable as he could get, Blair took off his sweatshirt, (which still left him wearing two other shirts), and wrapped it around Jim's waist. "Simon says that we'll just lay you out in the back seat of his car. And when we get you home, I'll take good care of you."
They slowly made their way from the room and met Simon in the hall.
The police captain shook his head at the sight of the two men. "Jim, I'd never thought I'd say this, but when are you going to learn to listen to your partner?" Ignoring Jim's glare (and the patented Ellison glare was back in full force), Simon continued. "Come on, let's get your sorry ass home."
Jim was only too happy to dial down the sound of the deep chuckling and gleeful snickering.
After a series of delicate and complicated maneuvers to get Jim into Simon's back seat, involving both Blair and Simon working in unison at what Blair described as 'the pushme-pullyou' strategy, straight out of Dr. Doolittle, Jim found himself lying face down once again.
Blair climbed into the front seat beside Simon Banks and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a grin.
"What?" Simon asked with a frown.
Blair bit his lip and shot Jim a sly glance. "Oh, I was just thinking that this isn't the first time I've seen Jim in that position in the back of a car," he laughed.
Simon pulled a disgusted face, but eventually surrendered to a smile. He'd known about Ellison and Sandburg from the beginning and was totally cool with their relationship. But, at times like this, he could really live without the gory details.
"I'm not the only one who's going to need his ass treated when we get home, you little bastard!" Jim's muffled voice drifted over from the back seat of the vehicle.
As Blair's laughter filled the air, an urgent message came over the radio.
"Captain Banks, we have an emergency, we need you here right now," the operator said nervously...
'It just can't be,' Jim thought. 'Simply can *not* be. I admit that I fucked up, but if there's anybody up there listening, don't you think I've suffered enough? Am I so undeserving of a quick trip home and some TLC from my partner?'
Simon's bark interrupted his pity party.
"Emergency!? What sort of emergency? I'm trying to handle a situation here. Get Taggert to cover it until I can get there."
"Um, Captain... it's kind of a delicate matter involving the deputy Mayor, a bleached blonde, and an irate wife with a gun... And the press just got wind of it. The Mayor has requested that you handle it personally, sir. Should I patch him through?"
"No. I'm on my way," Simon signed off brusquely. "Shit. Sorry Jim... we're going to have to make a detour."
Jim didn't answer, but his mind was reeling. 'Just fucking great!' He couldn't believe that he was racing to a scene that would be crawling with cops, reporters, and the freaking Mayor... and he wasn't coming to the rescue this time. No, he would be laid out, ass up, in the back seat of a Thunderbird. 'I couldn't possibly have pissed off someone this bad!'
He clutched the seat as Simon made a sharp turn, trying not to get dumped to the floor.
Well, at least Simon wasn't laughing anymore.
"Holy shit!" Blair gasped as the 'crime scene' came into view, "Where did all those reporters come from? Man, that's a Japanese crew!"
In the back seat, Jim had buried his head in the blanket, so kindly laid out for him to rest on. So, he'd have an ass that was famous abroad as well as at home, how many people could say that?
"Sandburg, you stay here with Jim, while I go find out what's happening," Simon grumbled.
"Hey, I could drive your car home, drop Jim off and bring it back," Blair suggested.
"Yes, yes!" Jim's pleading tones drifted from the rear seat, "Please?"
"What? Let you drive *my* car, are you insane?" Simon stared, open mouthed at Blair, shocked beyond words at the thought of Sandburg behind the wheel of his precious automobile.
Blair pouted, "But, Simon?"
"No... end of conversation. I'll try to be quick."
Blair turned and smiled at the sad, dejected sight in the back seat, "Sorry Jim, I tried," he said. "But, I have to say, you do look inviting in that position." He allowed a snigger to escape.
"I'm not sure who I hate more. You, Simon, or God?" Jim growled, still unable to see the 'funny side'.
Still grinning, Blair leaned between the seats and whispered, "I guess I'm gonna have to be gentle with you, huh?"
Jim's groin tightened at the low, husky tones of his partner's voice, "Sandburg!" he hissed, "Would you not *do* that?"
"Do what?" the younger man replied, his face a vision of innocence.
"You know damn well what! Start whispering in that 'come fuck me' voice of yours."
Blair laughed. "So, you don't want me to play with your ass anymore?" he taunted.
"Right at this moment, I think I'd prefer the pitbull back," Jim grunted.
Blair refused to be offended. "Okay... but my bite is better. In fact, I seem to remember more than one occasion when you've actually *begged* me to bite you harder."
The tone held a bit of mocking humor, but mostly it was sensuous, and smoky, and it made Jim uncomfortable in a most delicious way. He tried to shift his front without disturbing his rear... not an easy task.
"Jesus," Jim hissed softly. "Sandburg, I swear, if you make me lose it in my clothes, on top of everything else..."
Blair laughed -- a sweet, seductive sound that was like teasing fingers tickling Jim in intimate places.
"As much as I'd love that, Jim, as hot as it makes me just knowing that I can even do that... that's not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking about something more along the lines of... mental acupressure. We give you something pleasant to think about that translates to a physical sensation, which gives your nerve endings something else to concentrate on. Trust me, it'll make you feel better."
Jim sighed. Only Sandburg could turn a sexual experience into a scientific experiment, complete with a lecture and lab tests.
"Blair... if you really want to make me feel better, hot-wire this vehicle and get me *home*."
"Hey, I love you. You know that. And I'd go to the mat for you against Simon in a heartbeat. But I gotta choose my battles, man, and I'm sorry, but you have to ride this one out. I'm not tackling Simon when it comes to his car... I think one chewed ass in this partnership is enough. I know, I know. Not funny. But, like I said, one day..."
Blair stopped abruptly, and Jim could hear his partner's heart rate take a sudden increase. Whether due to fear, excitement, or anxiety, Jim couldn't tell, and he was about to ask when Blair spoke again.
"Heads up, Jim. Or rather... heads down. Looks like we've got company."
From under the cover of the blanket, Jim heard a knock on the car window.
"Hi." A nasal twang assaulted Jim's sensitive ears. "Are you with the police department?" The woman smiled at Blair before shooting Jim a curious glance.
"No," Blair said quickly.
At that same moment, Jim answered "Yes."
"Can you give me any idea of what's going down here?" she continued, blatantly uninterested in whether these two strange men were police officers or not.
Blair opted for the polite approach, "I'm sorry, we don't know anything," he shrugged, shooting her one of his 'Sandburg special smiles'.
The woman was clearly immune to those soft blue eyes and the dazzling smile. Immediately, she headed to the window nearest to Jim, "What about you?"
"NO!" Jim roared, "Take a hike, lady!"
Her face shattered into a delighted grin. "You're Detective Ellison," she said slightly breathlessly. "I interviewed you after the Lash case, remember?"
Jim raised his head and glowered, "Oh yes, I remember," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "Now *beat it*"
Blair watched nervously as Jim changed, from a friendly kitty to an angry panther, in the blink of an eye. "Jim?" he coughed.
"So, detective, you're bound to be involved in all of this. What's happening?" the woman continued.
Jim snarled. "Do I look like I'm 'involved in all of this'?" he said angrily. "I am just on my way home from the hospital, now will you *please* go away?"
"Hospital?" she gasped. "Were you injured in the line of duty?"
"No, I always travel this way," Jim replied, his blood pressure climbing.
Blair suddenly noticed that other news crews were being inexorably drawn by the mystery of the news-hound talking to the back seat of a Thunderbird.
"So, how did your injury happen, detective? Were you shot? Stabbed? Is it serious?" She tried to push a microphone through the crack in the window.
"Is it serious?" Jim ground his teeth. Blair covered his eyes, deciding that he couldn't be called as a witness in a murder trial, if he hadn't *seen* anything. "Yeah, it's serious, from where I am right now, lady, it's *very* fucking serious!"
The woman's face lit up, "Oh wow, that's great. Do you mind if we go live with this?"
Jim's roar filled the car, and Blair decided some sort of plan was needed. There was no way that a live interview was a good idea, not given Jim's state -- emotional or physical. He was tempted to give up the tidbit about the deputy Mayor to the media wolves -- but somehow he figured that Simon would have preferred he just steal the Thunderbird, rather than cause trouble for City Hall.
He was frantically trying to come up with a suitable diversionary tactic, when all hell broke loose. The news crews that had gathered around all of a sudden rushed away from the vehicle... groups of police flew into action amongst scattered shouts of "Shots fired!" and "Officer down!"
"Shit!!" Jim was trying to move.
"What, Jim! What's happening?"
"I think it's Simon... help me up from here."
"No, Jim, stay put... and, if you want to preserve the rest of your dignity, stay covered. I'll go see if I can get more info."
Sirens sounded as an ambulance pulled up.
"Wait, Chief, there's no way either one of us will be able to make it through. Let me see if I can hear anymore."
Blair waited patiently... for about 30 seconds.
"Hold up, I think they're coming out."
"Give me a minute... there's a lot of screaming.... Okay, sounds like they've arrested the deputy Mayor's wife. Seems she caught him with his pants down, and his secretary on her knees, making the most of it." He gave a harsh chuckle, "She's in handcuffs and she's still pissed. I think they had talked her into letting the secretary go, but she decided to put a little scare in the 'bottle-blonde bimbo' -- her words."
"So, she *shot* her husband's secretary?"
Jim was quiet for a minute, and Blair was just about to repeat his question when Jim started talking again.
"Damn. Not quite, Chief. They're getting ready to put the victim into the ambulance now. It doesn't sound like it's serious... but, brace yourself, it *is* Simon."
"Yep." Jim chuckled a little.
"What the *fuck* is so funny about Simon getting *shot*?"
Jim could hear the anger in his partner's voice, but he just laughed a little harder.
"You're not going to believe this. But, it seems the wife's aim was off... as the secretary was leaving, she was going to shoot *at* her.... Simon was trying to get the secretary out the door, turned away, and got shot right in the rear end... just a flesh wound, they're saying."
"So, you're saying Simon's got a bullet wound in his ass?? But he's going to be okay?"
"Sounds like it. Wanna go check on him... and get the keys to this thing?"
Blair could think of a million things he'd rather do than go ask Simon for car keys after he'd been shot in the rear end, in public, in front of media... but he opened the car door anyway.
"Be right back. Sit tight." He chuckled... okay in a way, it *was* funny. But he had the feeling that he was not going to escape suffering. Somehow, he knew, *he* was going to get stuck dealing with the two pains-in-the-ass with pains in their asses. He laughed harder at that, trying not to lose control, and hurried to see if he could get to Simon.
Blair suddenly realized that he didn't need to be a Sentinel to find the big police Captain. Just follow the bellowing and he'd find him, no problem. A young uniformed officer stopped Blair before he could pass the line of reporters.
"I need to see Captain Banks," Blair explained.
"No one comes through," the young officer stated, obviously fearful not only for his job, but his life should he let *anyone* close enough to get pictures.
"Look, I'm not a reporter, I'm Blair Sandburg, an observer with Major Crimes. I was traveling with the Captain and my partner when he got the call. I need his car keys to get my partner home...."
"No one comes through," the young man repeated, ignoring Blair utterly.
"Look, just go tell him that I'm here," Blair pleaded.
Scared pale brown eyes glared into blue. "Do you have *any* idea how *pissed* he is?" the officer gasped.
Blair sighed, "Oh, I probably do, yes!"
"*SANDBURG*!" Simon's voice suddenly carried across the assembled chatter.
"Y'see, told you he'd want to see me," Blair smiled patiently, as the young man stepped back and let him pass. "You yelled?" he said with a grin as Simon came into sight, bent over on a gurney, a blanket strategically placed across his rear.
With a snarl, the bigger man turned and glared. "Take these keys, get Jim home, then come down to the hospital and pick me up," he instructed, handing Blair the keys. "And Sandburg?"
Blair turned and smiled, "Yeah?"
"Treat that car like you'd treat your dick, with care, love and respect. Damage it and I'll have a little Sandburg doll made, which I will take pleasure in sticking pins in, until the day I die!" Simon ranted. "Do I make myself clear?"
Blair grinned. "Crystal!" he beamed. "Just hold on to your ass, I'll be with you in no time," sniggering at his own pun, Blair struggled back through the crowds and headed for Jim.
Once again, Blair passed through the crowd of reporters. He picked up stray sound bites from the various news crews recording for their evening shows.
"A bizarre story played out at City Hall this afternoon in Cascade, Washington..."
"Sources reveal that the deputy Mayor was allegedly caught in an intimate clench with his secretary..."
"...distraught wife pulled a gun, holding the two hostage for over an hour..."
"After negotiations with Simon Banks, Captain of the Cascade Police Department's Major Crimes division, and a personal friend of the deputy Mayor and his wife, it looked like the situation was drawing to a peaceful conclusion..."
"In an unfortunate turn of events, Captain Banks suffered a gunshot wound..."
"Jessica Hayes is in custody, and the deputy Mayor and Chrissie White are giving statements."
"...more news on Captain Banks' condition as it becomes available."
There was the rush and scramble as the crowd started breaking up, and Blair picked up the pace in Jim's direction. One reporter nosing in the car had been enough.
He got behind the wheel, trying to convince himself that driving this car was no different than any other, despite the distinct trembling in his hands.
"Hey, you wanna get a move on, Chief? I've been laid out back here for long enough."
"I'm going... I'm going..." He started the engine, easing away from the scene. "Oh, sorry, but I'm going to have to drop you off, then go down to the hospital for Simon."
"Yeah, I heard."
"Sometimes, I hate that you can do that..." Blair reddened a little, remembering Simon's last words to him.
"Yeah, me too," Jim muttered, remembering some things he had overheard before he and Sandburg had gotten together. Things that had just about driven him crazy... late night interludes with Blair sweaty and moaning as he pleasured himself in the room downstairs, causing Jim, on more than one occasion, to come just from the intimate sounds alone...
"...is that okay, Jim?"
Jerked back to the present, Jim shifted, trying to ease the pressure on his second erection of the day... at the rate he was going, soon he would be getting hard simply from the smell of the Thunderbird's upholstery.
"What was that, Chief?"
"Where's your mind, man? I *said* that I guess I should bring Simon back to the loft. He's bound to be out of commission for a day or two, and it might not be a good idea for him to be all alone. Okay?"
"Whatever, Chief, just put the pedal to the metal, huh? I need to get out of this car."
"Sorry, Jim. There's no need for all three of us to be out because of ass-related injuries. If I get one little scratch on this baby, I have no doubt that Simon will kick my ass so hard, I'll need surgery to remove the size 13 shoe."
It was the best laugh Jim had had all day.