All The Girls He's Loved Before
by LilyK
The first of the Sandburg women I hated was Christine. She had long, silky black hair and even longer legs. She was a sexy and beautiful woman -- things I definitely am not. I am not sexy. I am not beautiful. I am not a woman. Damn it anyway.
When I came home from work that night, I knew well and good that Sandburg had a woman in the loft. My loft, I might add. I was immediately pissed. Not because he had a woman with him, but because he had a woman with him. I mean, I understand why he had a woman with him -- he's a great looking guy, after all. I mean because he had any woman with him. Because... because I wanted to be with him. And I am definitely not a woman.
So I did what any mature person would do when his roommate is entertaining guests. I banged on the door and demanded entry. I talked loudly about the apartment being my home. I stomped around the kitchen for a beer. I made sure the mood was nicely broken. Luckily, my ploy worked. I was annoying enough that Christine took off like a hooker that found out her john didn't have any cash. Bitch that she was.
But I was just nice enough that Blair wasn't pissed at me. He blamed Christine's sudden escape on himself and his inability to process images from the latest crime scene we had encountered. I was happy to offer him what comfort he would accept from me at this point. As much as I wanted to take him into my arms and comfort him with kisses and caresses, I acted macho. Spouted off some shit about controlling your emotions in order to be a better cop. The emotional control part was true. Still is. But the rest was an act. I was feeling so emotional I could have turned somersaults, jacked off, fucked Blair, and still had enough energy to take down a criminal or two before morning. At least Christine was soon a thing of the past.
The next woman I hated was Maya. That one was all my fault. I pushed Blair into her arms and almost into her bed because of an important case. Thankfully, they never made it that far. I know. I sniffed, smelled, inhaled, snuffled and scented Blair each and every time he came home after being with her. Thankfully, he never smelled of sex. But he did love that girl and she fucked him over but good. She had to 'find herself' she said. Geez. What a bitch. She hurt him so badly I wanted to cry right along with him. I've never seen Blair quite that emotional again, not even when Roy died. I wasn't sorry to see her go. Not by a long shot. Thank God she took off. Yeah, she resurfaced again and caused more trouble, but the long arm of the law finally booted her ass out of the good old USA and back to her own country.
Blair looked absolutely awful that night when Maya was taken away. He was cold and wet. He had a big old split on his forehead and his eye had turned ten shades of black and blue by the time we got home. Once again, as much as I wanted to take him and pull him close; hold him and love him, I didn't. I'm not a woman, remember? Blair's a guy. He likes women. I'm a guy. I like women. No, wait. I like... I love Blair. Instead, I bought him a double veggie deep-dish pizza and a six-pack of Killian's Red. He was happy. I was depressed.
Next came Amber the Hooker. Blair fell for her, not so much in the 'I want to fuck you' kind of way, but in the big brother 'I want to save you' kind of way. She irritated me to no end. Women who can't make a decision, who take the easy way out, who whine, bug the hell out of me. She jerked Blair's chain and brought out his protective nature big time. I hated her for it.
Sandburg almost died because of her; because of her stupidity and her ignorance. When I walked in the door of that hotel room and saw him on the floor, unmoving, I panicked. I didn't even think of listening for his heartbeat. I fell to my knees and put my hands on him. I needed to touch him; to will him to be okay. Thank God for Kevlar. Luckily, after that peck on the cheek in the hallway outside the bullpen, Blair never did follow up with her. I know he wasn't comfortable dating a woman who had turned tricks and who thought that selling her body was the only way to make it through college. Like Wal-Mart wasn't hiring or something? I know I sure didn't want him dating her, but what could I say? Nothing, so I kept quiet and prayed... a lot. Thankfully, my prayers were answered that time.
Then Maggie trotted along. She wasn't much, but she did spark Blair's interest for a little while so I hated her also. I think I see a pattern here. I hate any woman who sparks Blair's interest even if it's for ten minutes. I want to spark Blair's interest and not for ten minutes, but for a lifetime. Anyway, he invited Maggie for a simple chat about books and for coffee. She turned out to be the bad girl this time around. No big surprise there. Fuck, he has no better luck than I do. We both seem to attract women who end up being the bitch of the week. Something's gotta change before we're both dead of old age. At this rate, I'll still be pining over my delectable partner until the day they plant me in the ground.
The next big thing to cruise through Blair's life was the evil Sam. She did more than cruise; she was a fucking train wreck. There was that day in the lab when she almost blew Sandburg's face off. Yeah, she said with an innocent expression that the chemicals were harmless, but that was a damned passive/aggressive move. She wanted to hurt him. I could tell, but she tried to hide it behind a pretty smile and an explanation that it was innocent fun.
Blair hung around with Sam for a hell of a long time. He claimed that they had hot sex many times. I remember that day I was released from the hospital after whacking out on smelling opium on a monk's prayer beads. I didn't know it then, but the monk was not a monk and those beads were a convenient way to hide a sample of the drug they were looking to sell. One sniff and I was down for the count. I didn't know what had happened and I woke with a headache the size of Kentucky. In the hospital, Sandburg planted himself beside my bed until I was well enough for the doc to send me on my way.
We got home and there, in the hallway outside the loft door, were the flowers I'd sent to my lady friend the day before. I passed them onto Blair, who took them to Sam. Well, the next morning, when Blair came home, he bragged about how the flowers 'worked'. I knew well and good that he was insinuating that he and Sam had a wild time in the old town that night, but I also knew from a thorough Sentinel sweep, that unless he had been fumigated by the CIA that he hadn't had sex with the bitch. I hid my pissed off Blessed Protector mode and grinned. After all, I'd been lucky that night. Why should I make Blair feel any less of a man?
Why? Because even though I fucked Lila, I wanted Blair. I closed my eyes and pictured long, mahogany curls instead of straight black hair. I pictured a slim, sturdy body with a hairy chest and a nipple ring instead of Lila's many curves and womanly hidden places. And seeing as I have a great imagination, and since I hadn't seen Sandburg naked all the way yet, I had to conjure up a thick, delicious erection rising from crisp dark pubic hair. It helped a lot that Lila was into anal sex, because I blocked out her smell and with Blair's scent permeating the loft, I came harder than I had in ages pretending it was his ass I was buried balls deep in.
So I let Blair think I believed he was super stud. Lila bit the dust. Life went on. Sandburg dated a few more losers. There were also a couple of pretty nice ladies, if I do say so myself. Mara worked at the FBI. She was smart and kind of attractive. I hated her. Katie was a cute, innocent thing. She had a child, which interested Blair immensely. She was a good woman, kind and caring. I hated her, of course. Luckily, nothing much came of the dates. He drifted into their lives. They drifted out. Nothing big emotionally. I still gave him the Sentinel once-over every time he came home, but nothing ever showed up on my radar. Either he was great at washing, or he wasn't having sex. At least with anybody but his own five fingers. This puzzled me but I never said anything, only thanked the gods who were watching over him and were keeping him for me... if I ever got around to asking for what I wanted. I'm a coward. I admit it.
I feel like I should mention Iris. Let's face it. Iris was a slut through and through. Thank God she showed her stripes pretty quickly. I don't know what Blair was thinking when he dragged that bitch home, but he was definitely bordering on desperate to be attracted to that piece of work. Prison is the best place for her, believe me. Hopefully she's being thoroughly entertained by her new roomie and friend, Large Marge.
It's been about six months since Alex. Things have finally calmed down. After the fucking diss debacle, I thought that Blair and I were toast, friendship-wise. There was no way that he was hanging around me any longer, I was sure. I fucked up royally that time, but I digress. Alex messed up my senses, big time. I thought it was lust but it wasn't even that. I had to turn off my senses whenever she was within a mile of me. Her scent was all wrong. I can't explain it, but it gave me the willies. Why did I try to fuck her? Because I'm an idiot. With hindsight, I can't imagine that I even kissed the bitch. God, I hate her and she didn't try to fuck Blair. She did something much worse. She killed him. I felt sorry for her for about two minutes that day in the Temple. Now I wish I had put a bullet in her head.
No big surprise that I'm sitting at home on a Saturday night. Sandburg's out with that bitch, Sam, yet again. They hadn't even spoken to each other for months before she called last night. I can't figure out her motives. Maybe Blair's a challenge. He never fucked her. She wants him to. It's a game to her and I've just about had it. She can't have him. He's mine.
I've driven down to the restaurant where he said he was taking her. It's a pretty nice place. Small. Dark. Intimate. The redolent smells of cooking waft through my nose, making my mouth water. I take a deep breath, enjoy the fragrances for a moment and then move on. I turn up my hearing, listening to Blair's deep voice amongst the other diners.
" ...will tonight. Things have been... unsettled, Sam. I just needed more time. I promise. Tonight will be different."
"You've said that at least two dozen times, Blair. Every time you promise. Every time you renege. What's wrong with you? Aren't I good enough?"
"No! Honest, Sam. It's not you. It's me. Really. I promise. Everything will be better. I'll be better. I can do this."
The bitch! She's putting all the blame on him. Well, technically, it is his fault he hasn't performed. Why is that? What's he waiting for? She's somewhat attractive, in an Elvira kind of way. I'm sure she's probably fucking pushy in bed; same as she is at work. That's a turn on, I think. Why hasn't he had sex with her? Why hasn't he had sex with any of the many women that have trooped through his life? I rub my forehead, contemplating. Why? Why? Because he's waiting. Hmmm. But for what? A 'better' woman? He's had tons of chances. Then it hits me like the proverbial ton of bricks. He's waiting for something else - for someone else. Maybe it's... Nah. That's too farfetched. Then I let myself say it and I say it out loud.
"He's waiting for me." I say the words and I feel a warm glow flow through my body. It starts in my toes and rushes to the top of my head. I feel lightheaded and pleasantly aroused.
Focusing again, I hear Blair and Sam rise and start toward the door. I move to lean back against the wall next to the door and when it swings open, Blair holding it for Sam, I step forward.
"Chief."
Surprised blue eyes meet mine. "Jim?"
Without saying a another word, I gently take Sam's arm, walk her to the curb, open a cab door, and forcefully encourage her to enter. Surprised, she doesn't protest. I shut the back door and open the front passenger door. I hand the driver a twenty.
"Take her home, please."
The cabbie nods and starts the engine. The back window rolls down and as they drive away, she yells, "You're a prick, Ellison!"
I smile and wave bye-bye. Good riddance to bad rubbish. God, I hate that bitch.
Blair is suddenly at my side. "Jim? What's wrong?"
I turn to my friend and with a wide smile, I say, "I love you." Then I kiss him long and hard. Right in front of that nice restaurant, in the middle of the sidewalk.
When I finally release his tantalizing lips, he licks the flavor from them, looking up at me with those amazing blue eyes and says, "Oh, God!"
I grin and, with my arm firmly around his waist, tug him down the sidewalk to my truck. "No more women, Sandburg. No more Sam. Not now. Not ever."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Just me and you, buddy. From here on out."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Besides, Chief. I know."
"Oh, yeah?"
I grin. "All those women, Blair, and you've never... You're still... waiting. You're still a virgin, aren't you, Chief?"
"Oh, shit."
I laugh deeply. We make it to the truck and I push him back against the door, pressing my body against his. I sound like a fucking Valentine's Day card when I ask, "Will you be mine, Blair Sandburg?"
He quietly stares at me. His eyes search my face minutely. I feel like I'm under a microscope, but I do the only thing I can: I let every ounce of love I have for this man shine from my face. I let every bit of affection and lust I have for this man radiate from my eyes. Then I wait.
The silence stretches and suddenly uncomfortable, I step back, dropping my hands. Before I can take a second step back, those strong, sturdy fingers that I want to feel caress my body grab the lapels of my jacket and yank me forward. My feet stay planted but my body falls forward, almost squashing Blair against the truck door. He lets out a small "oomph" and looks into my face that is barely an inch away from his. His eyes are full of love and passion when he finally answers.
"I'm already yours, Jim Ellison. The rest is a bonus."
The End.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to my sweet girls, Rosie and Ankaree, for the beta. This one is for Patt.