New
Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles
Standing at the Crossroads
by Sorcha
This is my first piece of fanfic ever posted. Comments much appreciated.
Though I wrote this soon after Crossroads aired I didn't get around to having it beta read and posted until now. When reading this two-part scene pretend that the Abomination never happened. But that's what most of us are doing anyhow, right? : )
Many thanks to Danae for beta reading.
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys and no harm or infringement intended. I write only for pleasure, not money.
Blair groggily unlocked the door to the loft and stepped inside. Leaving his keys and jacket by the door, he headed straight for his room. Running through the woods before he'd really had time to recover from his fever had not been a good idea. Sandburg had slept for most of the trip home, while Simon drove, but he was still tired.
After kicking off his shoes, Blair pulled off his shirt and jeans, then crawled into bed. He let out a sigh as his head rested on the soft pillow. Much more comfortable than that cot in the sick tent. In the luxurious comfort of his own bed, Sandburg expected to fall asleep almost immediately, but an hour later he seemed further from sleep rather than closer.
Frustrated, he kicked off the covers and got up. He padded barefoot out to the kitchen to make some tea. Blair ran a hand through his hair as he placed the kettle on the stove. He paced back and forth in the kitchen. Blair sighed, < I'll be lonely.>
He removed the kettle from the stove and set about making his tea. While he waited for it to steep, Sandburg resumed his pacing. he scolded himself.
Blair took his tea over by the balcony doors. Staring at the reflection of the loft's interior in the glass, he took a sip, burning his tongue in the process. < If Jim wants me to go, I'll go,> he decided. < Tomorrow I'll see if that room downstairs if still available. If it is, I can move in on the first of the month. I'll make things easier for Jim. He won't have to remind me. Most of my stuff will be packed before he gets back.>
Feeling depressed but resolved, Sandburg returned to the kitchen to wash out his mug. Looking around the loft that he'd come to call home, Blair felt his chest tighten. He closed his eyes briefly. < It has to be done, Sandburg.> Turning off the light, he headed back to his room and went to bed. But he didn't sleep.
*******************
Jim Ellison dumped his gear on the floor and fished his keys out of his pocket. He'd picked up the sounds of his friend's obnoxious music when he was down in the parking lot, and Jim knew a headache would set in if he didn't put an end to the racket soon. He shook his head as he retrieved his gear from the floor.
Nudging the door fully open with his foot, Jim stepped into the loft and dumped his bags once again. He shut the door and then purposefully made his way directly to the stereo, his hearing turned down as far as possible. He hit the stop button and Jim could almost hear his head sigh with relief as the cacophony that had previously filled the room was replaced with silence. Delicious silence. Strange silence.
The Sentinel was suddenly alert. Blair knew Jim was home. There was no way he could have missed the fact that the music had been turned off. So why didn't he come out of his room? Ellison turned his hearing up again, focussing it on Blair's bedroom. His partner's heart was beating faster than normal. "Hey, Chief, it's me," Jim called out. No answer. Now Jim was worried. Was something wrong?
Advancing toward Blair's bedroom, he noticed the box. It was sitting off to the side in the livingroom, half packed with the anthropologist's tribal masks and totems that had become a part of the room's decor. The realization of what was happening hit Jim hard. At that moment, Blair emerged from his room.
"Hey, Jim." He tried to sound casual, silently cursing his racing heartbeat. Blair couldn't believe how nervous he was. He almost felt like he was going to be sick.
"What's going on here, Chief?" Jim asked, even though he already knew. But he needed to hear the explanation.
"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry about this, Jim. I wasn't expecting you home til tomorrow and --"
"And what, Sandburg?" Jim heard the anger rise in his voice, in spite of himself. He knew his anger was just a cover for his worry, but he couldn't help himself. "You were just gonna pack up your stuff and be gone when I got home? Maybe leave a note on the table for me? Is that it?"
"No, Jim, let me explain." It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
"An explanation would be good, Sandburg. Real good." Jim folded his arms across his chest and stood waiting for his partner to talk.
"I wasn't skipping out on you, man. I just wanted to start getting my stuff packed. I wasn't going to leave before you got home. Honest." Blair struggled to make Jim understand. This was never meant to hurt their friendship. It was meant to help it.
Jim heard Blair's words, but most of all he read the younger man's expressive eyes. Sandburg hadn't been planning to move out while he was gone, Jim knew that was the truth. He sighed, letting his anger dissipate. But there was still a mess to sort out. He ran a hand over his face. "Does this have anything to do with what I said when you and Simon crashed my trip?"
"No . . . well, maybe a little," Blair admitted.
"Chief, listen. I didn't mean that I wanted you to move out. I didn't mean that at all. I just needed some time for myself, that's all. Everyone needs time alone every now and then. It was nothing personal, you've got to believe me."
"No, Jim, I --"
"You're not hearing me, Chief." Jim was starting to get frustrated. Didn't the kid understand how much he'd come to mean to Jim? Didn't he get it?
"I did hear you, Jim. But it's not just that. This was only supposed to be a temporary thing, remember? I can't . . . I just think that maybe it's time for me to get a place of my own again."
The detective was silent for a moment. Blair took the opportunity to walk past the taller man to sit on the couch, facing away from those sharp blue eyes that he couldn't bear to meet. Eyes that could, Blair was sure, see straight through to his soul. He didn't want Jim to know how painful this was for him. He couldn't let him know.
After a few seconds, Jim moved over from where he'd been standing to take a seat directly opposite from Blair. He tried to meet his friend's eyes, but Sandburg seemed to have found a very intriguing spot on the floor by his feet. Deciding on a new approach, Jim asked quietly, "Do I have any say in this?"
Blair's head jerked up. His eyes briefly came in contact with Jim's, but he quickly turned them away. "What do you mean?"
"I don't want you to go, Chief. That's what I mean."
"Jim . . . ." For once, Blair couldn't find any words to say.
"Just give it some more thought, okay? Will you promise me that?"
Blair looked up again and, after a brief moment, nodded. "Okay."
"Good." Jim stood and retrieved his bags and fishing gear from where he'd left them, then headed upstairs to his room. It was time to leave Blair alone for a while to make up his mind. Jim busied himself with the task of unpacking, trying to keep his worries at bay. What would he do if Blair moved out? The kid had filled a gaping whole in Jim's life, one that even Carolyn hadn't filled. And now he could lose it all. Jim prayed that Blair would make the right decision and say that he would stay.
Blair also retreated to his bedroom. He made his way around the boxes that he had been half-heartedly packing, and sat down on his bed. With his elbows resting on his knees, he put his head in his hands, letting out a deep breath. He thought for a moment, turning things over in his mind. But one thought stuck out. Finally taking the time to fully appreciate Jim's earlier words, Blair felt the tightness in his chest ease up. Sandburg found that he didn't have an answer to his own question. He stood, running a hand through his hair. He knew what he had to do.
Blair paused a moment before opening his door, listening as Jim came downstairs and moved into the kitchen. Then he pushed open the door and took a few steps in Jim's direction before stopping. Jim had the fridge open, but looked up and around at Blair for a second when he emerged from his room. "Hey, Chief, you want a beer?"
"Oh, sure." Blair moved toward the kitchen and accepted the opened beer that his friend was offering. "Jim," Blair started, and as the detective looked up expectantly, he continued, "I thought about it some more like you asked, and I'd like to stay."
Jim let a smile creep across his face. "I'm glad you came to your senses, Chief." Seeing Blair raise his eyebrows in question, Jim finished, "This is where you belong."
Now Blair was smiling too. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."
Jim slung an arm around his friend's shoulders. "So, Chief. What do you say we get these boxes unpacked?"
"Sounds good to me, Jim." Sounded real good. Things were back on track.
The End