LEARNING THE HARD WAY by Carolina Moon
Category: Discipline, no slashDisclaimer: These characters are not mine, and I’m making no profit from this little endeavor—just lots of new friends!Feedback: [email protected]Blair strode into the loft with Jim close on his heels. During the entire trip home from the station he had tried to make small talk with the older man, getting almost no response. Deciding to give it another shot, he reached for Jim’s coat and smiled back over his shoulder.“So, what should we make for dinner? I know there’s spaghetti left, but I could throw together a stir fry if you’d prefer that,” he said striving for an amiable tone, trying to get the conversation flowing more normally. Jim’s expression remained implacable.“I’m not hungry, Sandburg. Though I expect you worked up quite an appetite today, so please feel free to have some supper.” Jim’s tone was still coldly angry, and Blair couldn’t help but wince at the thinly veiled reference to his day’s activities. Jim turned his back on Blair’s expectant face and retreated to the living room, sitting down heavily on the sofa, anger coming off him in waves.
Blair sighed, realizing he had no hope of salvaging the evening as long as Jim’s foul mood persisted. Steeling himself for the lecture ahead, he walked over behind the couch, attempting once more to explain his position and apologize.
“Look, Jim, I know you’re pissed,” he began, speaking softly to Jim’s ironclad back. “And I’ll admit, going in to talk to Davies after you had told me not to was probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done...” He was interrupted by a rude snort from the sentinel.
“Well, that’s one thing we’re in agreement on, Chief,” Jim said without turning around.Blair shot him a sour look that was totally wasted on the back of his head and continued. “Jim, would you let me finish? I already told you and Simon—numerous times over the last 2 hours---I might add, that I’m sorry. I just thought that maybe I could reach the guy better from an academic’s point of view than a cop’s. You know—reason with the guy. Make *him* come to his own conclusion that his plan was illogical. Reason instead of force.” Blair was relieved that Jim seemed to be listening.
“Reason instead of force, huh? That argument might have been a tad more convincing if he hadn’t been holding an automatic weapon three feet from your chest. Your un-Kevlar protected chest, I might add.”
“Jim, I told you—I had to go in as a fellow professor—not as a cop. Davies might have taken a shot at me on sight if I had shown up in a vest.”
“Or he might not have gotten close enough to take a shot at you at all if you had simply stayed out of it like I told you.”
“I couldn’t do that, Jim. Look, I know it drives you crazy when I go off and do things on my own, but this had nothing to do with my role as your partner or as an observer. I went in purely as a friend—and I would have done it no matter who was in charge of the situation.”
“If you mean for that to be comforting, Chief, it’s not. All it tells me is that you never stop to think about the dangers of a situation before you jump in with both feet. And it most certainly does have to do with you being with me. That’s the only reason you were allowed behind the police line in the first place. Otherwise, you would have been back out of harm’s way with the other bystanders.”
Blair decided to ignore that and continue with his explanation. “Davies wouldn’t have hurt me—he knows I know what he’s been going through. Losing your grant money is enough to drive anyone over the edge.”
“Sorry, Sandburg, but not everyone deals with the frustrations at work by going postal and grabbing a weapon. And since he’d already taken a few pot shots, I don’t know how you could be so sure he wouldn’t shoot at you.”
“I don’t know, man, call it instinct.”
“I don’t call it instinct, Chief—I call it suicide. And I’ve about had it with your ‘instinctive behavior.’”
That got Blair’s attention. “What do you mean, you’ve about had it?” he asked warily.
“Simple, Chief. If I don’t find a way to get it through your head once and for all that taking chances with your life is totally unacceptable, there are going to have to be some changes made around here.”
Now Blair was really worried. “Changes? Man, I don’t like the sound of that. What are you talking about? I mean, we’ve had this argument before, Jim, but you know I always manage to land on my feet. I guess maybe I’m part cat—you know, nine lives and all? In fact, there’s a tribe in Africa that believes that there are actually people with more, I don’t know, ‘life force’ than usual and they believe that….”
“Can it, Chief,” Jim cut in sharply. “ I don’t want to hear about African folk tales or anything else. Right now, I just need time to think and your chattering is making that difficult.”
Blair glared once again, insulted by the implication that his conversation was annoying. He threw up his hands in disgust, deciding he might as well do some studying in his room until Jim calmed down enough to talk reasonably. Before he had a chance to move in that direction, however, Jim spoke again, his voice angry but controlled.
“I think it would be best if you just went to your room, Sandburg.”
Blair stared at the Sentinel in shock. He had been heading that way anyway, but there was a huge difference between *going* to your room and being *sent* to your room. His own carefully banked temper flared. “Now just a minute, Jim. I know you’re angry, but you’re way out of line. I’m not a little kid and I’m not going to my room just because you tell me to!”, he practically yelled, but he stepped back involuntarily as Jim rose off the sofa and loomed over him.
“Chief, angry doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now, and you most certainly *are* going to your room, even if I have to escort you there myself. I need some time to think things over and I want you out of sight while I do.”
“Fine!! If that’s the way you feel, I’ll just clear out for a while. Give you all the room you need, man. Just stick a candle in the window or something when you’re ready for me to come home!” Blair strode purposefully toward the coat rack, intent on grabbing his jacket and making a speedy get away. He hadn’t made it two steps before a furious wall blocked his way.
“Forget it, Chief. You’re not leaving this apartment right now, or possibly any time in the near future, if we can’t get this resolved. Now, I don’t care if you study, sleep, or hang on the ‘net, but you’re going to your room and you’re staying there until I come up with a way to deal with this.”
Blair stared at him, stunned at the depth of feeling reflected in the older man’s eyes. He knew instinctively that they had reached a critical point in their relationship. If he walked out now, he knew Jim would let him come back, and they might even be able to salvage their friendship, but nothing would ever be the same again. Neither man spoke for a full minute, both understanding the treacherous ground they were now on. Finally Blair’s shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter how much he resented Jim treating him so childishly, he just couldn’t bring himself to defy the older man. That, coupled with his residual feelings of guilt over the whole matter, was enough to propel his feet slowly in the direction of the French doors to his room. Fortunately, Jim’s face remained impassive in the face of his victory. If Blair had seen even a hint of smugness on the Sentinel’s part, he would have spun on his heel and left the loft without a backward glance.
Jim’s shoulders relaxed with Blair’s acquiescence, but he wasn’t about to gloat. Like Blair, he knew the battle might be over, but the war was far from won. Instead, he gave a small nod of acknowledgment and returned to his place on the sofa.
Blair entered his room, giving the door a defiant slam. He was tempted to crank his radio up full blast, just to irritate Jim’s Sentinel senses, but decided that an act like that would just cement his feelings of immaturity. Instead, he threw himself down on the bed, going back over the afternoon, wondering for the thousandth time if maybe he *had* acted carelessly. Both Jim and Simon certainly seemed to think so—in fact, the captain had expressed his opinion at length for most of the past two hours.
His musings gave way to guilt, and then to worry. What did Jim mean when he said they might have to make some changes? Simon had hinted that unless Blair’s more reckless behavior was sharply curbed, he’d have no choice but to pull the younger man’s observer pass. Blair had been sure at the time that the man was merely ranting, but now, coupled with Jim’s determined behavior, he was beginning to feel uneasy. It wasn’t like he *tried* to get into trouble, after all. It just seemed that he often found himself in situations where the most helpful course of action he could take was not always the safest.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that dinner had been forgotten. He was physically hungry, but without appetite, which happened often when he was upset. His eating habits drove Jim crazy sometimes, but he just couldn’t force food when his mind was in turmoil. He glanced at his bedside clock, surprised to see that close to an hour had already passed. He was just beginning to wonder when Jim might decide to spring him when he heard a soft knock. At his reply, Jim stuck his head around the glass doors.
“Chief, would you come out here and talk to me?”
Jim’s quiet tone and gentle words reassured the younger man. An angry Sentinel was a scary thing to see, but the older man seemed much calmer now.
Blair pushed himself off the bed.
“Sure, Jim,” he replied, deciding not to make an issue of the fact that he was only in his room because Jim had sent him there in the first place. He followed the older man out to the living room and sat down on the sofa opposite him, waiting for him to speak. Jim stared at him for several long moments with almost a speculative look in his eyes, which made Blair squirm uncomfortably.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking out here, Chief,” he finally remarked.
“Hope you didn’t hurt anything,” Blair teased gently, relieved when he got a halfhearted grin in return.
Jim leaned back against the cushions, obviously mulling over his next words.
“You’ve been a teacher for a couple of years now haven’t you, Chief?” Jim began.
Blair was confused by the change in subject, but he wasn’t about to argue. “Yeah, a few years—and I tutored for a while, too.”
“Well, tell me something. Have you ever had a student who was smart and highly motivated, but just couldn’t seem to ‘get’ whatever it was you were trying to teach?”
“Oh, sure, Jim,” Blair replied, still puzzled, but more than happy to head off in another direction if it would take the scrutiny off him for a while. “You get kids like that all the time. Sometimes it’s just a test-taking problem, sometimes it’s something more indefinable, but there are lots of reasons why a bright kid would have trouble learning. You know, researchers have identified seven different types of learning behaviors—for instance, some kids are auditory learners, some are visual, some even learn better when the lessons are introduced through movement,” he continued, warming to the subject.
“So, if a student couldn’t grasp the information presented one way, you might try it another, is that what you’re saying?” Jim clarified.
“Yeah,” Blair nodded enthusiastically. “I had one kid who just couldn’t take tests, no matter what the format. As soon as he saw the paper, he would freeze. Essay, multiple choice, true/false--didn’t matter. He just couldn’t handle it.”
“So, what’d you do, Chief?”
“Well, I couldn’t do this for everyone, of course, but this guy really knew the stuff, and wanted to succeed, so I made an exception. I gave him oral tests in my office in place of the standard written ones—he aced every one!” Blair smiled at the memory, as always pleased with the idea of helping someone.
Jim sat back with a thoughtful expression, assimilating the information. “So, one of the tricks to being a good teacher is to find the way your students learn the best, is that it?”
Blair nodded again, pleased that the older man seemed to be taking such an interest in a subject so dear to his heart, even if he couldn’t figure out why. “So, why the sudden interest in this, man?”
“I’m getting to that, but in the meantime, let’s see how good your memory is. Do you remember a few months ago, you were making some garlic bread and then something came on the news that you wanted to catch? You forgot about the bread until it started to burn. You grabbed the pan without a hot pad and ended up burning your fingers.”
“Geez, how could I forget, Jim? You made me sit with my hand in cold water half the night, and then you made me keep it wrapped in gauze for two days. I felt like my hand was mummified!”
“But you’re always careful to grab a pot holder first, now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well, how about the time it started to rain and you realized that the Volvo windows were still open? You ran outside without stopping to put your shoes on and ended up cutting your heel on glass.”
Blair snorted. “Yeah, I remember that, too. You made me go to the emergency room for stitches—and a tetanus shot!” That memory brought a scowl to his face.
“But you don’t go outside barefooted anymore, do you? And how about the time last spring when you got that bad case of strep? The doctor told you to finish all your antibiotics, but you tossed them as soon as you were feeling better. Do you remember what happened then?”
“What is this, a trip down memory lane, re-visiting everything stupid thing I’ve ever done?” Blair groused.
“Just answer the question, Chief.”
Blair sighed in disgust. “I ended up getting some kind of weird rebound infection and had to go back to the doctor,” he grudgingly admitted.
“Yeah, you got a lecture better than any one Simon or I have ever given you, and a butt full of penicillin. But the next time the doctor gave you medicine, you took every last pill.”
“Okay, Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve done some stupid things. But everyone makes mistakes, right Jim?” he said with a self-deprecating grin.
The older man did not look amused. “But not everyone keeps making the same ones over and over again. Especially ones that could cost them their lives.”
Blair sighed again, knowing that he should have expected the conversation to return to the subject at hand. He ran a hand through his unruly curls. “Look, I said I was sorry. I realize now that going in to talk to Davies wasn’t my smartest move. I won’t do it again, Jim.”
“Well, Sandburg, you’ve told me that before, and it doesn’t seem to mean anything. So I thought that, just like a teacher, we’d go back and figure out how you learn the best. And correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that the best reminder for you is the threat of a little pain.”
Blair blanched at that. “What are you saying, Jim? What are you going to do, twist my arm if I do something dangerous?”
“No, Blair, of course not. Nothing like that.”
Blair heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Good, you had me worried there for a minute.”
Jim continued on as if Blair hadn’t spoken. “I was thinking of something a little more traditional—something that’s stood the test of time.”
Blair was immediately wary again. “Like what, Jim?”
Jim suddenly stood and moved over to the other sofa so he was looming over the younger man.
“I was thinking of doing what my father used to do to Stephen and me when we forgot the rules. He’d take us over his knee and give us a good, hard spanking.”
Blair stared at him in shock for a minute, and then let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “God, Jim, you’re making me really nervous here. You’re kidding, right?”
Not even the trace of a smile appeared on the older man’s face. “No, I’m not kidding, Blair. You might not like to admit it, but the threat of a little pain is your best motivator.”
Noting the deadly serious tone, Blair decided he didn’t like the direction of this conversation at all. He attempted to lunge from the sofa, but with Jim poised over him, the best he could do was a sideways scrabble. Jim caught his arm before he could move a foot.
“Sit still, Sandburg!” Jim commanded in his best military voice, and Blair found himself unconsciously obeying. He stared up at the steely Sentinel, trying frantically to think of some way out of this. Deciding that words were his best and most reliable strategy, he spoke in his most soothing ‘guide’ voice.
“C’mon, Jim. You’re not really serious. I know I screwed up, but I’m not a little kid here, and you’re not my father.”
“Never said I was, Chief,” Jim replied calmly. “But I am in charge of keeping you safe during our assignments, and I’m hoping this might make my job a little easier.”
“What, spanking me like a five year old? Jim, that’s crazy. I said I was sorry,” his guide pleaded. “How about if I take over all kitchen and bathroom duties for a week, okay?”
Jim’s expression didn’t change.
“All right—a month!” Blair amended.
Jim continued to stare at him. He finally shook his head. “Sandburg, this isn’t just about punishing you. This is about finally finding a way to make you understand that keeping yourself safe should always be your first priority.”
“Sounds like punishment to me, Jim,” Blair remarked petulantly.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t punishment,” Jim responded patiently. “But that’s not the only thing going on here. I want to do something that will make an impression on you. Something that you’re not likely to forget—ever! And like I said, a little pain, applied forcefully to your backside, might make more of an impact—if you’ll pardon the pun--than anything else I could do.”
“But, Jim! A spanking? There’s got to be something else! I’ve never been spanked in my life,” Blair declared vehemently, but as he did so, Jim became aware of a spike in his heart rate. Obviously, that allegation was not entirely true. He raised an eyebrow at the younger man, clearly questioning the veracity of that statement.
Blair dropped his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time that he could find some way to make himself immune to his Sentinel’s lie detecting abilities.
“Who spanked you before, Chief? Naomi?” Jim asked, though knowing Naomi’s pacifistic leanings, it seemed doubtful. He was surprised when Blair admitted it.
Blair looked completely miserable and blushed a bright red. “Yeah, it was Naomi,” he said, deciding it wasn’t even worth bothering to deny it. “She always swore she never believed in corporal punishment, but one time I scared her so badly she forgot all about that.”
“What’d you do, Chief? And more importantly, did you ever do it again?”
Blair gave him another glare, which the older man cheerfully ignored. “I ran away from home with a friend of mine when I was nine, and no, I never did it again.”
“Ran away from home? Why, Chief? I thought you had the ideal childhood.”
“Yeah, I did, man, but like I said, my friend Dylan was running away, so I decided to go with him. I didn’t want him to be all by himself in the great big world, and I thought it would be a great adventure, you know?”
Jim shook his head, thinking that Blair’s altruistic tendencies had obviously started early. “Why did Dylan want to run away?”
“He got in trouble at school for flushing something down one of the toilets in the boy’s bathroom. He knew he’d probably get a spanking for it when he got home, so he decided to leave rather than face the music. Of course, we got caught before the night was over and the joke ended up being on us. Not only did Dylan get it twice as bad for trying to take off, but also Naomi was so mad and frightened that I had gone with him, she tanned my rear end good with her hairbrush. Hurt like hell—she’d never spanked me before, but she handled it like a pro. Man, I never left the house after that without telling her exactly where I was going and when I’d be home,” Blair finished with a rueful shake of his head.
“So, it worked, huh?” Jim said. Blair’s blue eyes flew up to meet his, annoyed with himself for giving Jim more ammunition for his hare-brained plan.
“Jim, I was a kid then!” Blair pointed out.
“Yeah, a kid with an extraordinarily large heart—and a hard head. So far, I’m not seeing a whole lot of difference between you at nine and you now. And frankly, that makes me even more convinced that this is the way to go.”
“And what if I refuse, Jim? I mean, I know you’re bigger than me, but I don’t think you’d use brute force on me.”
“No, I wouldn’t, Chief. If we do this, it’s going to have to be your call.”
“Good!! Then I say, no way, man!”
Jim nodded. “All right. I’m going to miss working with you, though. Even aside from your help with the ‘sentinel’ thing, your instincts were better than most of the other trained officers I’ve worked with.”
Blair’s chin dropped in shock. “You mean you don’t want me as a partner anymore?”
“Of course I want you, Sandburg. I’m just not willing to see you wind up dead just to have you with me. I need some kind of assurance that you’re going to put a little more thought into self-preservation. This isn’t some idle whim, Blair. I truly think that this might be the best way to reach you.”
“Jim, I understand what you’re saying, but my God—do you realize what you’re asking of me?”
“Yes, I think I do, Chief. I’m asking you to trust me to deliver a message to you that you *must* learn, and to do it in such a way that we *never* have to face a situation like this again.”
Blair seemed to think that over for a minute. “Does that mean that if I go along with this now, I have your word that you’ll never resort to measures like this again?” he asked tentatively.
Jim chewed on his lip, not answering for several moments. Finally he reached a decision and shook his head firmly. “No, Sandburg, I won’t promise you that. I sincerely hope that this will be a one time only deal, but I won’t rule out the possibility that a reminder might be needed at some future point. If this method seems effective, I may want to use it again.”
Blair absorbed these words, and then pushed himself off the couch. He began pacing nervously, running his hands through his hair. “Jim, please. Can’t we just consider this my final warning? I promise, if I ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll bring you the hairbrush myself. How about that?”
“Sorry, Chief. That ‘next time’ you talk about could be the time your luck runs out. Nope, we handle this now—tonight, or I tell Simon I’m back to working solo.” Realizing that Blair was in real danger of working himself into a full fledged panic attack, he rose slowly. “Blair, I’m going upstairs. Think about this for a while. If you’re willing to accept this, come on up and we’ll take care of it.” He squeezed Blair gently on the shoulder as he walked by, but the younger man barely acknowledged him. He seemed lost in his own world.
Jim trudged up the stairs, wondering if he had just destroyed a perfect friendship. He automatically tuned in to his guide’s heartbeat, not surprised to find it racing a mile a minute. He prayed that Blair would be able to come to terms with the decision Jim had made. But if he didn’t, Jim would just have to steel himself to have that talk with Simon. No matter how much it might break his heart to do it, he’d end the partnership before he’d bury his friend.
Blair was barely aware of Jim leaving as his mind raced, trying to come up with a way out of this situation. He didn’t doubt the sincerity behind Jim’s words for a minute—or the deep affection that had prompted the older man to take this course of action with him. But what Jim was asking him to do was almost impossible. How could he willingly go to the man he thought of as his best friend and submit to something like that? His mind spun in helpless circles as he pictured himself mounting the stairs and presenting himself for punishment.
Realizing he was dangerously close to fleeing the loft and running ‘til he couldn’t anymore, Blair forced himself back down on the sofa, trying to think rationally. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and then grabbed one of his ever-present notebooks and a pen, deciding to approach the problem from an objective point of view—if that were possible. He turned to a clear page, determined to think this out the way he always did—by listing all the facts he could about a dilemma, and letting them speak for themselves. He thought for a moment and then began to write:
1. If I don’t let Jim punish me, he won’t keep me as a partner.
2. I want to be Jim’s partner.
3. I hate pain.
4. Jim told me to stay out of the situation today but I went in anyway.
5. I’ve gotten hurt a lot in my time with Jim, but I wouldn’t trade one day of our partnership. (Except maybe that time in the woods with Quinn)
6. Jim needs me with him.
7. Simon has threatened to pull my observer pass if I don’t start being more careful.
8. I’m not a little kid and I don’t like being treated like one.
9. Jim watches out for me the way a father or older brother would—and I let him. I don’t even mind it most of the time.
10. I hate pain.
Blair paused for a moment, almost smiling when he realized he’d written *that* particular fact twice. The smile was short-lived as he read back over the words he had written. Just as he had hoped, the answer was clear—it just wasn’t the one he wanted to see. With everything spelled out in black and white—or blue and white, as the case may be, there was only one clear option. Like it or not, he’d have to let Jim punish him. Of course, reaching the decision and actually implementing it were two different things. He still had to find it in himself to climb those stairs and admit to Jim that he deserved a spanking.
Jim had tried to ease his own turmoil by completing some mindless tasks in his room, keeping one ear tuned on the young man below. He had heard Blair pick up the notebook, and the sound of pen on paper. For a moment, he’d panicked, afraid that Blair might be writing a ‘good bye’ letter, but his tension had eased when he realized that the younger man was simply using his usual method of working something out—always the teacher, relying on paper and pen to make sense of life. When he heard the pen being thrown down on the table top, he knew a decision had been reached. Now he’d just have to wait to see what the outcome would be.
As he listened, he heard Blair begin pacing again. He smiled slightly, realizing that the younger man must have resolved to accept the punishment. If his partner had decided that Jim’s ultimatum was out of the question, he would have been up the stairs immediately, using every argument and trick he could think of to talk Jim out of it. As it was, Blair was no doubt trying to work up the courage to mount the steps.
Deciding to make it somewhat easier on him by taking charge of the situation, Jim leaned over the railing and spoke softly.
“Blair, I think it’s time you came up now.”
Blair’s eyes flew upward, staring at the older man. “Jim, how do you know I’ve even reached a decision yet, much less what it is?” he asked testily.
“Simple, Chief—I know you, and I know how you think. Now, come on up and we’ll try to get this over with so we can salvage the rest of the evening.”
Blair nodded, secretly grateful that Jim had forced his hand. He walked slowly to the bottom of the steps, but stopped suddenly. Jim stared down at him, curious.
“Jim, should I ..uhm, bring anything?” Blair choked out, blushing deeply.
Jim was confused for a moment, and then he suddenly understood. He’d been so busy concentrating on getting Blair to actually agree to be punished; he’d given no real thought to what he’d use to punish him with. A belt was definitely out, but just a spanking by hand didn’t seem quite severe enough for the lesson he wanted to impart. Deciding to follow Naomi’s lead, he glanced over at his dresser, seeing his hairbrush. It was neither very large, nor very heavy, but he was willing to bet it could sting. He looked back down at Blair.
“No, Chief. Just yourself,” he said gently. Blair climbed more slowly than he would have thought possible, every step a small punishment in itself. Finally the younger man reached the top. He stared at Jim, swaying slightly.
“All right, Jim. I’m here. I hate this, but I’m here.”
“What made up your mind, Chief?” Jim asked, genuinely curious.
Blair stared down at his shoes, unable to meet his partner’s eyes. “You, Jim. As much as I don’t like this, I don’t want to let you down. And I guess I deserve it,” he mumbled. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Look, my courage isn’t going to last much longer. Can we just do this?”
“Sure, Chief.” He walked over and picked his hairbrush off the dresser, hearing Blair’s heart rate spike behind him. “Take your jeans down,” he said matter-of-factly.
Blair’s blue eyes flew wide. “Jim! No! C’mon, man! I mean, I know we live together and all but some treasures should stay buried, you know what I mean?” he pleaded shakily.
“Nice try, buddy, but I’ve seen your butt through the back end of more hospital gowns than I’d care to remember. This brush isn’t that big, and I want to make sure it’ll make an impression. So down with them—now!”
Blair jumped at Jim’s peremptory tone, but he found himself obeying. His hands shook as he fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans. Jim sat down on the edge of his perfectly made bed, waiting patiently. Blair finally shuffled over to him, hands tightly clasping the now-loose jeans. He paused for a moment, his courage fleeing. He started to turn, ready to bolt back down the stairs, but Jim anticipated the move and grabbed his arm. With a quick movement, he had Blair down and positioned easily over his thighs.
“Jim, stop!! I’ve changed my mind! I don’t want to do this!”
“You don’t want to be my partner anymore, Chief?” Jim asked calmly, holding his struggling guide in position without much effort.
“No, not that—you know I’d never give that up. But, please, man--not this!”
“Sorry, buddy—can’t have one without the other. So what’s it going to be?”
For a moment, it was deathly silent in the loft. Blair buried his face in the comforter on top of Jim’s bed, his arms over his head. “Just go ahead, Jim,” he finally murmured, Sentinel soft.
Blair’s jeans had dropped during his trip over Jim’s lap, so all the older man had to do was tug them down a bit further. He grasped the waistband of Blair’s boxers, feeling the small body tense in fear and embarrassment. With one quick pull, he had them down as well. He picked up the hairbrush, feeling Blair’s tension raise another notch. He knew the first stroke would be the hardest for both of them, so he bit his lip and brought the brush down hard. Blair’s head flew up and he gave a shocked cry.
“OWW!! Jim, that hurt!”
“That’s the idea, Chief,” Jim answered, glad the first one was over. Without pause, he brought the brush down again in a different spot, and Blair reacted similarly. He soon settled into a rhythm, delivering one stroke every few seconds. After the first few, Blair was in tears, but Jim knew it was from embarrassment more than pain. When Jim paused a minute or two later, every spot on the younger man’s backside was a rosy red.
“Just a few more, Chief,” he said to the back of the curly head. He made sure the last few would make an impression, concentrating them all on the crease where Blair’s butt met his thighs. The tender skin there was soon an angry red and Blair was howling his distress. Once Jim was convinced his message had been received, he dropped the brush on the bed and loosened his hold on his guide.
As soon as Blair was free, he leapt from Jim’s lap, pulling his pants up as he stood. Before Jim could say a word, he flew down the stairs so quickly that the older man was afraid he might miss a step and tumble down. Jim heard him fly into his room and slam the door behind him. He didn’t need to use his Sentinel hearing to pick up on the sobbing from below and it made him feel slightly guilty. He knew deep down that he hadn’t spanked Blair that hard, but right now the younger man was obviously in misery. He debated with himself whether to go and try to talk to his guide, or simply let the younger man have some time to work things out for himself.
Deciding that Blair would benefit most from some private time, he descended to the kitchen to throw something together for dinner. It was just after nine, and lunch had been a long time ago. He deliberately dawdled over the tasks, giving Blair as much time as possible to pull himself together. He reached out with his senses every so often, trying to gauge his guide’s mental state. The sobbing had stopped, and Blair’s heart rate had resumed it’s normal rhythm, but other than that, Jim could detect no sign of activity. When the impromptu meal was finally ready, he tapped quietly on Sandburg’s door.
“Hey, Chief. I made us some dinner. Come on out and eat.”
“Go away, Jim. I’m not hungry,” came the surly reply.
“C’mon, buddy, it’s late—you have to eat something.” He expected some response, or at least the sound of his guide moving, but all remained silent. “Sandburg? Dinner’s getting cold,” he said a little more forcefully.
“I told you, Jim—I’m not hungry. Just leave me alone.” Blair’s voice was so angry that Jim found himself backing up, but then he stopped, beginning to get a little angry himself.
“Blair, you have to eat. Now quit the pouting and get out here.” The minute the words left his mouth, Jim knew they were a mistake. He was startled when the door in front of him flew open, revealing a seething guide. Blair’s face was tear-streaked, but his eyes were spitting fire.
“Oh, so now I’m pouting, am I, Jim? Well, isn’t that the kind of behavior you’d expect from a little kid who needs to be spanked to get him to behave? I don’t believe you, man. How can you just stand there and act like nothing just happened? I told you, I want to be left alone!”
Jim held his hands up in silent surrender. “Blair, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to minimize what you’ve been through. I just thought that maybe we could sit and have something to eat and try to move on—you know, put the whole thing behind us.”
“‘Behind us,’ Jim? That kind of pun is not even worthy of your sense of humor,” Blair said coldly.
Jim looked confused for a moment until he realized what he had said. “Chief, I didn’t mean it that way! I would never use a situation like this to make you the butt of any jokes.” He clasped his hand over his mouth, realizing that he had inadvertently done it again. He looked so stricken that Blair found himself letting out a half-hearted chuckle.
“Man, and I thought my mouth could get me into trouble,” he said ruefully.
Jim was relieved that the younger man seemed to accept that he meant no offense. “Blair, please come eat something,” he said quietly.
“What if I don’t, Jim? Am I going to get punished for that, too?” Blair asked softly, and Jim could sense the real turmoil behind the question. The younger man was obviously afraid that the punishment delivered earlier would change the whole balance of their relationship.
“God, Chief, no! I would never do something like that!” Jim hastened to reassure him. He took a deep breath, desperate to make his friend understand. “I only spanked you for doing something that foolishly endangered your life. For stuff like not eating and never getting to bed at a reasonable hour, I’ll just resort to my tried and true tactics of nagging you to death,” he finished with a smile.
“Oh, good, that makes me feel so much better,” Blair replied with a sarcastic quirk of his mouth, but Jim could tell he was genuinely relieved. He shifted from foot to foot for a few moments, trying to decide whether to hold on to his anger or not. Finally, he looked back up at the older man. “I guess I could eat something,” he admitted grudgingly.
Jim was pleased that the current crisis seemed to have been averted. “Good. It may not be as fancy as you could fix, Chief, but it’s hot.”
Blair gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll grab us a couple of beers, man,” he said; the closest he was likely to get to admitting he had forgiven Jim. He started to move toward the kitchen, but a sudden hand on his arm stopped him.
“Blair, are you going to be okay with all of this?,” Jim asked, suddenly needing more reassurance.
Blair looked surprised at the uncertainty in the sentinel’s eyes. “Jim, if you remember correctly, this was all *your* idea. It’s a little late to be worrying about my feelings now, isn’t it?”
“Chief, it might have been my idea, but that doesn’t mean it made me happy. And your feelings always matter to me.”
“Yeah, Jim, I guess I’m okay with it,” Blair answered quietly. “You know, after Naomi punished me that time, she went to her room and cried. At first, I couldn’t understand why she was upset, when it was *my* butt that was sore. Then when I realized that she must be sad about hurting me, a part of me wanted to be glad that she was feeling so bad, but it really made me feel even worse. Not only did I hurt her by running away, but she was upset about punishing me, too. Even though I was just a kid, I realized that it can’t be easy to punish someone you love.” Blair was blushing by the time he finished speaking, and when he continued, his voice was so soft that Jim had to bump his hearing up a notch to make out the words. “I know you only did it because you were frightened, Jim. I hope—for both of our sakes—that I never make you want to do that again.”
He was startled when he felt Jim’s arms suddenly come around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He heard the older man’s earnest words softly in his ear.
“That makes two of us, kid—that makes two of us.”
THE END