Title: Coping 4: Obfuscation
Author: Grey
E-mail address: Grey853@aol.com
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: J/B
Status: New, complete
Date: March 29, 1998
Archive: Yes to both
Archive e-mail: Same
Series/Sequel: The fourth in the "Coping" series. This
comes within a few days of "Guilty Play". In order, the
series is "Coping", "Dealing", "Guilty
Play", "Obfuscation". If you can't find them at
the archive, or you missed them on the list, e-mail me for a
copy.
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net
Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine, but they can come visit and play anytime.
Summary: Blair has to explain his black eye to Simon who isn't buying the little tap dance around the truth.
Notes: This takes place after "Love Kills". There are also spoilers for "Sweet Science".
Coping 4: Obfuscation
by Grey
Grey853@aol.com
Blair Sandburg managed to stay out of sight all of about 30 minutes before he heard Captain Simon Banks come up behind him and bellow. "Jesus, Kid, what the hell happened to your face?"
He'd been expecting it, but his breathing hitched anyway. Gulping air quickly and mentally chanting to stay calm, he pasted on the famous Sandburg smile and turned. "Hey, Simon. Bet you're glad it finally quit raining, huh?"
"Cut the shit, Sandburg. Let's go into my office."
"But, Simon..."
"Now."
Blair turned away from the coffee machine and carried his newly filled cup with him. Tagging along behind the giant of a man, he walked trying to keep his head up. He avoided the stares and looked away. He didn't even want to imagine what people were thinking about the shiner that ringed his right eye. The swelling around his nose and most of the puffiness were gone, but the purple bruise stood out like vivid paint on his olive skin. He appeared every bit like one of the victims questioned by the officers every day.
As soon as he entered the office, Simon shut the door and swiveled the slatted shades shut. "Sit down." He poured himself a splash of coffee as he struggled to contain his twisting anger. "Okay, talk."
"Simon, there's nothing to talk about."
"Yeah, right. You been boxing on the side?" The brief reference to his dead friend Roy brought an involuntary flinch. "Sorry, Blair, I forgot."
"It's all right. No big deal." Shrugging, Blair took a drink of his coffee and tried to control the slight queasiness building in his gut. The bitter brew did nothing to reduce the burning that gnawed and flipped in the nervous belly.
"Come on, Blair. When they told me that you looked beaten up, I didn't believe it. I thought if you'd been hurt, there'd be a report or something. Jim would be around somewhere raging and hunting down the perp. Now I see you for myself and I don't like what I see one bit. Talk to me, Sandburg."
"I'm a klutz, Simon. What can I say?"
"Try telling me what happened. And don't give me any shit about walking into some door."
"No, it wasn't a door."
"Thank goodness. So what was it?" Simon pinned the young man with his jet black eyes daring him to obfuscate one tiny bit.
Blair shifted uncomfortably. "Well, actually, it was a football."
"A football?"
"It rained all weekend and Jim and I, we couldn't get out."
Simon nodded encouragement. "And?"
"Well, we were playing a little catch, you know, and I wasn't looking when I should've been."
The captain lowered his chin, took in the uneasy body movements and the lack of eye contact. "Sandburg, do you know who you're talking to here?"
"Sir, I promise. It was the football."
"Maybe. But you're going to sit there and tell me that Mr. Everything in it's place, no nonsense Ellison is going to be tossing a football around the loft because he can't go out and play? Don't bullshit me, okay? What aren't you telling me?"
A slight pause preceded the word. "Nothing."
Worry nudging his chest, Simon stood and moved to the front of his desk. He sat down on the edge and spoke, his voice gravely, but soft. "Blair, listen to me. I know we all kid you around here about your obfuscations with the women, but this is serious. I want you to tell me the whole story."
"I did, Simon."
"Uh huh. So, why are you acting like a kid caught in a girl's locker room?"
"I'm not." Just as he finished speaking a knock interrupted. Jim poked his head in and asked, "Mind if I come in, sir?"
Simon saw Blair lift a hand to his face to cover his bruised eye. Shit. Simon turned his full attention to Jim and prayed his suspicions were totally wrong. "Sure. Maybe you can help me out here."
Jim stepped inside and shut the door behind him, keeping his eyes on his silent partner. "What's going on?"
"Blair and I were just discussing how he came to look like an assault victim. Care to shed some light on that?"
Jim Ellison stood absolutely straight and put his hands behind his back. He made full eye contact with his captain and spoke without inflection as if giving a report. "I hit him with a football."
"That's what he said, but I didn't believe him. You want to explain?"
"It was stupid."
"No kidding. Explain anyway."
Blair jumped in, his voice sharp with an anxious edge. "It wasn't his fault, Simon, honest. We were just playing around, you know. It was an accident."
"Chief, hush for a minute. Let me tell him the truth."
God. "Jim, please don't tell me you hit him on purpose."
"No, sir. It was an accident, but we weren't goofing off. We were arguing. Blair said something that pissed me off. He was squatting down picking up some books. I threw the ball over his head, but he stood up."
"Yeah, Simon, it was my fault as much as his. Jim would never hit me on purpose. You know that."
"Sandburg, shut up for a minute will you." Blair turned back around in silence, dreading what his partner might say. Jim's guilt often cut deep wounds all around. "Now, Jim, I don't even want to address how stupid it sounds that you hit your partner in the face with a damn football, but I'll grant you, it could happen. The problem I'm having is this argument part. What the hell did he say that would provoke you to even throw the damn thing?"
"It's personal, sir."
"Oh, lord, here we go again with the personal shit." Simon stood in exasperation and sat down in the chair across the table from Blair. He studied the deep bruise on the face. He shuddered for a moment and looked back at his best detective, saddened. "Jim, do you have any idea how bad this looks. He's your partner and you hit him during an argument."
"Simon, that's not fair. Jim, didn't mean to hit me. If I hadn't stood up, the ball would've just struck the wall."
"That's not the point, Blair." Jim's soft voice came from behind. "Simon's right. I hit you while I was angry. If I'd been under control like I should've been, I would never have thrown the ball in the first place."
"We all have tempers, Jim. I was pushing pretty hard."
"Doesn't matter, Chief. You should be able to say what you want. We can fight, but I should never lose control like that."
"It's no big deal, Jim. It's just a black eye. It's not like you broke anything."
"But don't you see, Chief? I did break something."
"What?"
"My pledge. I promised to love you and treat you right and then I almost break your nose. I'm sorry."
Simon Banks cleared his throat as a reminder that he still occupied the room. "Jim, you've still got personal time due. Maybe the two of you should take the rest of the day off and take care of some of that personal stuff you mentioned."
"Thanks, sir."
Blair swallowed hard and found the words stiff and unruly. "I'm sorry, Simon. I should've just told you about the fight."
"Yeah, you should've. Then again, I can understand you wanting to protect him."
"But, Chief, you've got to be honest with the captain. I mean, if I ever get out of hand, he's the one you've got to come to."
Simon's head jerked up, taking in the serious icy blue eyes of his friend. "But you're not going to ever get to that point, are you, Jim, because if you do, I'm going to be the one to kick your sorry ass down ten flight of stairs, right?"
"Right."
"Count on it. Now, if you don't mind, some of us do have to work around here. I want you two to settle whatever's going on between you some place other than my office."
"We will, Simon, and thanks." Blair got up from the table and met his lover's eyes. After just a few moments, Jim nodded. The young man smiled a broad grin and turned back to the captain. "Simon, I need to tell you something else."
Simon sipped his coffee and casually took in the two men standing so comfortably side by side. "Oh? What might that be, Sandburg? Would it have something to do with that little surprise visit I made last week?"
Blushing slightly, Blair nervously shifted and nodded. "Yeah, kinda. I mean, we sort of need to tell you the truth about us."
"Well, that might be a change. I mean, Jim's even started to pick up some of your talents in obfuscation."
"Sir?" Jim tilted his head in puzzlement.
"Like that story you told me when I dropped by? Come on, Jim. I'm a police captain. You might have been getting down and dirty, but you two certainly weren't cleaning before I got there."
Blair snorted, but stopped himself from laughing out loud when he saw the displeased expression on his friend's face. "Well, hell, sir. I guess I don't have to say anything else then."
"The less said about what happens between you two away from the station the better. Jim, we both know what this kind of thing can do to a guy's career."
"Yes, sir."
"Personally, I'm happy for the both of you, but I'm not your typical conservative cop. There are a lot of people who don't care for either of you anyway."
"Gee, Simon, that's not fair. Jim's a great detective and he's got a lot of friends."
"Yeah, that's true, Blair, but he also has a lot of people who find him abrasive and who are jealous because he is so good. As for you, you're not a cop. As popular as you can be once people get to know you, some just don't understand why Jim keeps you around. If this gets out, it'll only add to the push to pull your ride along status."
"Oh, man, that can't happen. Jim can't do this stuff alone, not with his senses still screwed up like they are."
Simon turned a worried eye to Jim as the detective gave the younger man a weak slap of annoyance on his arm.
"What are you two keeping from me?"
"Nothing, sir. Blair's just over reacting. That's not to say I could afford to lose him as a partner on the job. With everything that's been going on lately, I'm still a little rocky on the senses front."
"And the personal problems front, too, apparently."
"A little, yeah." Jim inched closer to stand right up against his guide.
"Jim, I'm going to do everything I can to protect the both of you, no matter what happens. I hope you know that."
"I do, sir."
"Then also know this. If I ever have reason to believe that you've lost control of your temper again, and Blair gets hurt, I'll also do everything I can to convince him to leave this relationship until you get some kind of help."
"Come on, man. I told you it was an accident."
"Yeah, and you also left out the part about the fight. I don't like the pattern I'm seeing here between you. When Jim gets pissed off, you seem to be his first target lately. That little show in the office the other day when he had you pinned against the wall and now this. I'm telling you, Jim, don't you ever hit him again. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir. You don't have to worry. If anything like this ever happens again, I'll make Blair leave myself. I love him. I'd never hurt him on purpose."
"I know that, Jim. But you're like a wounded cat these days. You've got so much stuff going on at once, it's no wonder you're having problems. It might not be a bad idea to talk to somebody about it."
"He is talking to somebody, Simon. I'm working with him."
The captain smiled fondly at the energetic loyalty, but shook his head. "You mean well, Blair, but you're not objective here. You're too close. You know that. Jim needs to get some other help with this."
"I'm okay, sir. I don't need to talk to anybody right now."
"What? You want to wait until I have to visit you or your partner in the hospital?"
"What's that supposed to mean, sir?"
"It's means that it's not just Blair I'm worried about. You've got some serious problems, Jim. It's not just anger. It's guilt, repression, a whole shitload of baggage I wouldn't dream of unpacking without professional counseling. As smart as you are, I don't know why it's so hard for you to accept that."
"I hear you, Simon. And I respect your opinion. I'll think about it."
"Really? That's cool, man."
"Enough, Chief. I said I'd think about it. I'm not checking into the nuthouse yet."
"Now see there, Jim. There's that resistant attitude again."
Simon raised a hand. "Okay you two, out. Go home. Do what you have to. And Blair."
"What?"
"I'd burn that football if I were you."
Blair's face darkened with a blush. "Well, actually, I've been thinking of some other things that I might do."
"Chief..."
"No, seriously, man. I've just got to do a little more research on anatomy."
Simon raised a hand to the niggling headache pecking at his forehead from inside his skull. "Go away, kid."
Bouncing full Blair mode, the young guide grabbed his sentinel's sleeve and grinned wickedly. "Come on, man."
Suddenly intrigued and fearful at the same time, Jim hesitated. "Just what do you have in mind, Chief?"
"Nothing, man, honest." Placing his hand over the silver nipple ring under his shirt, Blair gave it a playful tug sending a wave of delight to all the right spots. Jim could swear he felt the same tingles. Nervously he swallowed hard. Totally focused, he followed his favorite guide-packed jeans to the elevator, visions of hot, velvet pleasures prancing in his Blair- enhanced mind.
The End