Title: Vice
Author: A. Kite ( Akite68163@aol.com )
Series: The Sentinel
Code: Jim/Blair
Category: AU
Rating: NC-17 Please note that while Blair is young in this story, he is over 18
Disclaimer: The Sentinel and all the characters belong to Petfly Productions and various other suit wearing entities. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Archiving permission to Slashville and my webpage: http://www.oocities.org/a_kite_fic All others
please ask.
Comments, feedback and constructive criticism are welcome and always answered. Thanks to my beta
reader, Trekker and as always to Bridget, who keeps me on track.
by A. Kite (Sept. 01)
Jim Ellison stood in the shadows just inside the alley. His adrenaline was high and his heart pumping.
All the long weeks of work on this case would be ending in moments. What started out as a simple
Vice investigation, his investigation, now involved almost every department in the Cascade P.D.
Waiting for the signal to storm the building was killing Ellison.
Footsteps coming his way caught Jim's attention. Shit! A civilian was walking straight into the bust.
Ellison waited until footsteps were almost past the alleyway, then nabbed him. He got his first look and
realized it was a kid. A gorgeous kid with long curly hair that tossed around everywhere and lashed at
the cop's face as he fought the hand over his mouth, and the strong grip that had his arm chicken
winged behind his back. Ellison pulled him back further in the alley to muffle the struggle.
The hair that whipped across his face felt so wonderful that Ellison was almost sorry when the kid
stopped fighting and whimpered.
"Quiet," he growled into the kid's ear.
The kid nodded, and Jim let his hand off the kid's mouth. "Don't hurt me, please, don't hurt me," he
whispered. "I don't have much money, man, but the wallet's in my back pocket."
Ellison eased the wallet from the kid's tight jeans, resisting the temptation to touch the tight mounds of
ass those jeans covered. The Rainier student ID was hard to see in the near darkness, but there was
enough light to see the data. What the hell is a college kid doing in this part of town? At this time of
night? Bebopping down the sidewalk all by himself. Didn't they teach kids anything these days? Of
course they didn't or else you wouldn't be here, Ellison, he thought.
Jim's angry musing was interrupted by the kid, Sandburg,
"You got the wallet, man. Now, please, please let me go." There was a hopeful look on his face.
At least he was still keeping his voice down. Ellison's reply was cut off my the soft crackle of the radio
on his hip. "We're set, Ellison. Are you ready?"
One-handed, he managed to snag the radio and key it. "Got a problem here, sir. Civilian about to walk
into the line of fire."
A faint curse came back through the speaker. "Yeah, that's what I said. This was my bust now I have to
sit it out. Go, sir. Shut 'em down."
The kid twisted around and looked at Ellison, eyes wide in fear and surprise. "You're a cop?"
Jim Ellison knew he didn't look much like a cop at the moment, he made the shortest response
possible, "Undercover. Vice." Then all hell broke loose. Ellison threw himself over the kid.
Front to front with his nose buried in the space between neck and shoulder, the smell was almost
overwhelming. A wiggle from the slighter frame under him made something else more evident. "Jeez,
kid, wasn't once tonight enough?" Jim grunted.
"What are you talking about, man?"
"I can smell the sex on you and now you want it again?"
Defiantly, Sandburg moved his erection against the cop. "Yeah, well, and I guess that's your pistol
poking me in the stomach."
It was crazy. It was adrenaline, lust and the danger. The two men sprawled in a dirty alley thrust against
one another. Danger from the possibility of being caught, the possibility that a stray bullet might find
its way to them, only made them move together harder, faster. Just before climax overtook him, Ellison
bent his head down and kissed those perfect lips, saw them smile, then spiraled down.
The cessation of gunfire and the crackle of the radio still at his hip brought Jim back to himself.
The Major Crimes Captain, Banks, was calling him again. "We got 'em. Got 'em all, thanks to you,
Ellison." The captain was panting from elation and his own adrenaline high.
Jim pushed himself up. It was a long night of booking and paperwork. All worth it when Captain Banks
came by Vice, took him to the side and offered a position in Major Crimes. It wasn't until Ellison was
driving home that he remembered the kid in the alley. He was too tired right now, but later, later he'd
go to the address on Sandburg's ID card.
The sharp smell of semen greeted Ellison as he pulled off his clothes to shower. He zeroed in on the
stain on the front of his pants. No one had said a word about it, for which he was grateful. Coming in
your pants like a teenager wasn't something you wanted people to notice, especially when those people
were Vice officers.
The hot water felt good to Jim's tired muscles, but all too soon it ran out. As he climbed the stairs of his
new loft apartment, Ellison made a mental note to check into getting a bigger tank. He fell asleep
without another conscious thought.
Hours later, with a more rested body and a clearer head, Ellison pulled up in front of an apartment
house only blocks from the bust. Definitely seen its better days, Jim thought as he made his way up the
rickety stairs to the third floor.
There was no elevator in this building. The lighting in the hallway sucked too, but he managed to find
the right door and knocked.
The scent of burning sage almost overpowered Jim when the door creaked open a sliver. "Looking for
Blair Sandburg. Is he here?" he asked the eye at the door. The door closed for a moment and Ellison
heard the sound of a chain lock being disengaged. The door opened again, wider this time.
"You a friend of Blair's?" asked the ragamuffin girl that answered the door. "He didn't tell you?"
After a couple of sneezes, Jim managed to reply, "Tell me, what?"
"He's gone. Expedition down to the Yucatan. Some anthropology thing."
"How long?"
The girl shrugged, "Two, three months. He'll be back in time for the fall semester.
To say that Jim was disappointed would be an understatement, he thanked the woman and turned to
leave. In a few months time, he would forget all about the beautiful young man that he'd humped in an
alley.
As for Blair Sandburg, he would never forget. Years would pass, but he recognized the cop
instantaneously when he walked into the hospital room.
End