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Episode #7 BEDROOM - LOFT "Jim?" "Um?" "Cold." "Argh...." (sound of rustling covers, large body hauling himself out of bed, bare feet padding across floor, drawer opens and closes, grunts and groans, body sliding back under covers) "How's that?" "Oh, yeah." (long pause) "Jim?" "What now?" "You did put on the white socks? Right?" "Black." (silence, except for the sound of lip chewing - but only a Sentinel could have heard that) "Uh, Jim? You know your nipple ring fantasy?" "Yeah," "Well, I have one too." "A nipple ring fantasy? No. I'm - not - getting- a - nipple - ring. That's final. No." "White socks." (Sentinel digests those two words, then spits them out) "White socks?" "Yeah, you and me...naked...in your be...." "Our" "Our...bed, I'm cold, you put on those white socks. Just you...and me...and those white socks." "I am wearing them on my feet, right?" "Yes, Jim, on your feet." "And that turns you on?" "And warms me up." (sound of highly aroused sentinel "jumping" out of bed, "running" to dresser - drawer thrown open, small "wop" sounds as pair after pair after pair of socks hit the floor, the bed, the guide...) "AH, HA!" (sound of running steps, sentinel takes flying leap, of gold medal proportions, and lands with an "oomph") "Here. Why don't you take the black ones off and put the white ones on...." (an aroused guide, who shouldn't be able to think at this point, does) "Nope. My fantasy. You strip them off." "Oh, shit. Blair, I don't...oh, yeah, that feels...you are one...god, yes, manipulative...god lower...bastard...Blair? Blair...Right, socks." (covers thrown off again, body scooting up against headboard) "Da Da Da....Duh, Duh, Da, da..." "Blair, what are you doing?" "Humming the "Stripper" song...come on Jim, get with the program." "How do you do this to me? How do I let you?" "Da Da Da....Duh, Duh, Da, da...." "I don't believe....I'm doing....(oomph) this." "Dada tata ta da..ta da....man, you are so in the wrong profession...what those white socks to do me." "Oh god, yeah, shit...you - have- the - best - mouth...oh my god...blair...yeah, like that...shit...I'm only...wearing....(pant-pant) white...socks...blairrrrr...from...now...BLAIRRRRRRR! on...."
(20 minutes later) "Where did you learn to do that?" "Didn't." "Had to have." "Nope. I take it I did alright?" "My God, Blair...I've...never, it's never...been...I mean, shit.... You've never been with a man before?" "No, it never...came up." "Never "came up"? Cute, Sandburg, cute. But I have seen guys approach you... you just weren't interested?" "No." "But you are now?" "No, I mean, yes...I mean, only interested in you. Period." "Does a "duck taking to water" ring a bell?" "Jeesh, Jim, think you could refrain from using "duck" and "water" in the same sentence?" "Oh, sorry...forgot. But, well, you're a natural here, Chief." "What I am is an anthropologist..." (low chuckle and sound of arms and legs entwining, wrapping, shuffling) "Comfortable?" "Mmm" "Warm now?" (chuckle) "Very." (comfortable silence) "How did you know there was no problem at the station?" "You are like, so transparent. After almost three years? Everybody already thinks we're lovers. Any talk ended months ago, Jim." "Oh. So you knew I was just sounding you out?" "Mmm, thought it was a brilliant investigative technique tho'...And you did finally add 2+2 and came...." "And came and came and came...." "My god, Jim Ellison has a sense of humor in the bedroom." "Smart ass." (thoughtful pause) "Speaking of my ass...." (wumph) "Oh god, Blair, I'm warning...you...god, feels so...goood, Blair...." "As an anthropologist, a scientist...I really should experience all aspects of our new relationship...." "Blair...stop...mmmoh yeah...grinding your...incredible... ohgod...ass...into... ohmy...oh god...(moan)...won't be...(pant-pant) able to...stop...to control...." (hand fumbling in nightstand, paper ripped by teeth) "Jim, yeah, please...OH!....Hey! Cold...Wha!...oh, Jim...warm now...hot...yeah...(short gasps) Jim...Jim...feels so...god...harder...." "Push....back....Blair....." (much moaning) "Ohgodjim.....JIMMMMMM!" "BLAIRRRRRR!"
Final Episode - #8 BEDROOM - LOFT - NEXT MORNING "Shower". "Shower." "Race you." (sound of two bodies launching themselves out of bed - running, pushing, shoving, galumphing down stairs, feet sliding, body hitting bathroom door) "Chief, you cheat." "You're a pushover." "You have the advantage, less bulk, you can run faster." "Sore loser." "You should be the sore one." "Am. Need hot - hot - water." "And warm, soapy hands?" "Mmm, massage, need those hands."
LATER: (sounds of eating, chewing, slurping) "Blair, you really okay with this...with us?" "You're joking, right?" "No." "Jim, I love you, man. And to tell the truth, last night, you spoiled me for anyone else. So, yes, I'm very all right with "this", with "you", with "us". I'm so alright, it scares me." "Scares you? You mean the commitment?" "Jim, I've been "courting" you from the beginning...and where do you get this crap about my being afraid of commitment?" "Blair, your history doesn't..." "My history? What history would that be? My inability to stay in one school for say, thirteen years? Or maybe, my failure to stick with a certain Sentinel for say, three fucking years? This March? Or maybe you're talking about my relationships with the opposite sex?" "Whoa, calm down, Blair, I just...." "You just what? You just meant that I'm a flake? That you still can't trust me? You still think I'm going to skip out on you?" "I trust you with my life, Blair, and with my heart...but" "But?" "Well, you said it yourself. You're afraid." (sound of chair thrown back, pacing) "I'm not afraid of commitment, Jim. Not to you. I'm not afraid of the long term, I just don't think there will be a long term...It won't last, can't last." "Blair..." |
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"No. Let me say this. I'm not...oh, hell, there is no way to say this without sounding...fuck." "I'm not going anywhere, Chief. Take your time." "But that's just it. You will. They all do, don't you see?" "Noooo, not yet, but keep trying, Blair, I want to see." "I'm not stupid, Jim, in fact, I'm pretty damn intelligent, I know there's something missing. Something missing in me. Something that eventually...drives people away...because they can't get a hold...oh, man, not saying this well at all..." (pacing increases, becomes frenetic) "Shit, Jim. You must have noticed by now?" "No Blair, I haven't. There's nothing missing. Nothing." "You're wrong and you will notice and you will go, because I can't meet your needs, can't be...." "You mean because you're not what Running Bear wanted in a son? Or Michael Sandburg?" "Or Simon, or you or even Naomi? Jim, there's a piece of me missing...it keeps people at arms length...I keep people away." (sound of body rising, footsteps) "We've both been hurt by people who are supposed to love us, support us, keep us safe and that takes its toll, makes us doubt ourselves or others...I doubted others but the people who hurt you, made you doubt yourself. Can't you see that? We're really not so different. I believe you when you say you won't leave me, why can't you believe me when I say the same thing?" "You're all there, man, you just built up walls...*I'm* not all there, don't you see the difference?" "There's no real difference, except that you blame yourself for Running Bear's stupidity and because Naomi married a very sick man...and you blame yourself because there is something in Naomi that keeps her moving...searching...and it's not you at all, it's them." (pause) "When was the last time you saw Running Bear?" "The summer Two Feathers died. I haven't been back since." "Maybe it's time you faced him? Told him that you know the truth? Isn't that what you'd tell me to do?" "That's right, throw me back at me." (soft laughter) "Well, I'm right, aren't I?" "In a Blair kinda way, Jim." "So? Where does that leave us now?" "I'm thinking." (sound of skin on skin) "Jim, I can't think if you're going to...." "Try Darwin, try. Make it a Sentinel/Guide experiment. I drive you physically crazy while you try to think." "Jim...I...this is...so...not working...um... god, yes...ear...my ear...." (Sentinel whisper) "I will never leave, Blair, never." THE END |