Kiss The Rain II

By Liz

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating PG

Summary: A long time ago I wrote a story called Kiss the Rain it as naff and sold Blair well short. This is the fic Blair deserved.

Warning 1: Next time I'll read all my mail before replying.

Warning 2: Note this is unbetaed and written during west wing and 24.

Warning 3: One bad word at the end but after nearly 4 years I think it's deserved.


Kiss The Rain II

By Liz

Blair was still here.

That was his first thought. It was a thought he'd had a lot over the last weeks. Each homecoming was accompanied by the overwhelming relief that Blair was still here. Blair was still in the loft, still in Cascade, still in his life. Despite how selfish it sounded Jim knew as long as that was true everything would be alright.

Except it wasn't alright. Not by a long shot.

As he closed the door behind him Jim felt his relief fade. Blair was outside, on the balcony, beer in hand. On the kitchen counter next to the ever growing pile of letters offering support, jobs and a way out of this mess, was an open bottle of Budweiser. The invitation was as unsubtle and ominous as the dark clouds and heavy sky that had been threatening to turn into a storm all day. He picked up the bottle, not needing sentinel senses to feel it's warmth, and, casting a longing look at the fridge, headed out to the balcony.

Blair nodded his greeting, turning only slightly before casting his intense gaze back across the city. Jim took up position next to him, close enough to lend his support far enough away to not overshadow him, and took a long mouthful of his beer. He had to work hard to suppress a wince but if warm flat beer was to be part of his penance he'd accept it gratefully.

There was a long silence broken only by the low rumbling of thunder as the summer storm closed in. Even his senses felt dull under the heavy pressure of air. Of course he should have expected that by now, he rejects Blair, this thing, his duty, and the senses go. If Blair was rejecting him now then surely the outcome would be no different. The sky rumbled again. If the sentinel went with Blair then he would have to live with that. It was time to live with his choices.

He took another drink of warm beer and listened to the thunder rumble a third time before turning to Blair. "You've decided." He sounded calm and accepting and was pleased with himself.

"Yeah man, tell Simon thanks but no thanks." Blair didn't turn but his voice sounded light and cheerful, and like 'Blair' for the first time in weeks. Jim felt relief rushing into him.

"You're going to fight this." It was a statement rather than a question. There were a million reasons for Blair to fight the university. Well not a million but several good ones, he'd hired a lawyer when this mess first blew up. He knew the situation, the file and phone number were up in his room he' d been waiting for the right time and now.

"Jim."

Blair's stern voice broke his thoughts and he turned to look at his friend. For a second his senses spiked on him. The glare of the setting sun and the shadows of storm clouds played across Blair's face and for a second he could swear he was seeing Chopec markings. Blair smiled and the illusion was broken. He tilted his head to the kitchen. "They'll fight for me." Jim glanced in that direction at the letters, from students, and student groups, professors, and mentors, and Naomi and all her friends. Half of them, Jim guessed, had legal dossiers and enough political pull to get Blair a PhD and probably the US presidency while they were at it. It made him feel both proud and impotent.

He felt Blair smiling at him, watching him with an intensity which scared him. As he turned he flashed on the image of red and black war paint and quickly turned away to watch the city, his city.

"I have something more important to fight for."

Jim wasn't even sure he heard the whispered words. His wild senses and the impending storm choosing to spike at the same time and drown out all the city noise. He gripped the balcony rail panting, then breathing deeply until his could focus on the dials, inching then down until the world felt normal again. Then as he listened to Blair's voice back up to the horrible humidity and opressiveness of the storm. He slumped against the rail for a moment both depressed and relived at his dependency. There were times, more and more recently, where both of them believed the Jim could manage on him own. Ironically it was good to be reminded that it wasn't true. He pushed himself up and turn to see if Blair had realised the same thing but he had turned back to the city seemingly deep in thought.

Then the first drop of rain hit Jim's hand where it rested on the rail. It wasn't drizzle but a big fat rain drop that felt nearly painfully heavy on his sentinel skin. He tore his eyes off Blair and watched as the water ran off the back of his hand to the black metal below. A second drop was spreading, a rapidly growing patch of dark wet blue on his light blue shirt. The next splat literally bounced of the rail, reflecting the last of the setting sun before making several smaller dark patches on his sleeve. He turned to Blair suddenly worried knowing how easily cold damp conditions affected the younger man, and that it was unlikely he had decent insurance anymore. The first few spots of rain had already plastered his long hair to his scalp and yet he seemed un-bothered. Jim started to say something about 'catching your death' but Blair turned and this time the patterns of shadow and amber sunlight that traced Chopec patterns across his skin couldn't be put down to any sensory spikes.

"We all have our journeys. if cold and wet is mine I'll live." Blair shrugged and smiled and the dying light traced the lines edging his eyes reminding Jim that Blair wasn't even close to being the kid they sometime saw him as.

It felt strange and normal standing there in the rain, the tracks of rain drops tracing several thick vertical lines down the side of his face the way Incacha's red dyed fingers had once done. He could smell the forest, the damp soil and the intoxicating smell of wood smoke and he realised then what he had to do. If he woke up tomorrow and found Blair's bags packed he'd pack his own and carry both sets to the door.

He met Blair's unyielding gaze, "Do you need company on that trip?"

The rain was coming down fast now and the weight on his shoulders had vanished as quickly as the oppressive humidity. Blair was grinning freely. Incacha would have said something wise and enigmatic, maybe he'd have made him sit in the storm till he understood. Blair just grinned, for a second he tilted his head up face to the rain mouth open slightly, tongue catching drops of water then he shivered and brushing past Jim went inside muttering "About fucking time man."


The End
Liz