Work Text:
an alternate ending to Candy Apple's "Comes Around," by Kass
Chancellor Konoe's voice was smooth and even, which had annoyed Blair during the recitation of his academic failures. Now that it was starting to sound like she was changing her tune, though, he found her voice less frustrating - almost melodic.
"You never submitted anything fraudulent to the University, or to your committee. You researched sentinels, but you never shared any tangible results of that research with us -- falsified or otherwise. Your academic record is otherwise flawless."
"Thank you, but I --"
"Blair, we want to reinstate you into the Ph.D. program," Eli interrupted. "Obviously, you would need to determine a new dissertation topic to be approved by a new committee."
Konoe cut in. "In other words, Mr. Sandburg, you did violate the terms of your fellowship, but you did nothing to warrant further disciplinary action than the revocation of that fellowship."
She paused and Eli spoke up again. "We would reinstate your graduate student status, and you would be free to register as usual at the start of the next semester."
The way the two of them traded sentences seemed, to Blair, like a well-choreographed ballroom dance. As if he'd just been waltzed from one partner to another.
Blair cleared his throat. "I don't know what to say."
To his left, Eli was thumbing the edge of a notebook, seemingly unaware of his repeated action. Ahead the chancellor sat almost perfectly still, manicured hands folded on the leather pad that protected her glossy desk.
Blair took a deep breath, centering himself, and thought again about his dream.
---
The wolf - his wolf, the wolf that was him - was moving through the forest. He could smell the spoor of rodents who had crossed this patch of ground, could taste in the air the scent of the panther he followed. The scent of Jim.
But the panther was getting further ahead, because the Blair-wolf was moving slowly. There was an ache in his left hind paw, like a ten-inch railroad spike driven up his ankle, and he could no longer run. He sat down and howled.
And the panther circled back, and pushed him with his cold black nose until he flopped over, showing his vulnerable belly. And the panther nuzzled him for a moment, nipping gently at his side, and then bent to the injured paw, working at it with raspy tongue and a delicate press of teeth.
An enormous thorn came free, and the panther gave the footpad one final lick, and then they stood and they ran again.
This time the wolf ran as fast as the panther. It was almost like flying by the time Blair awoke.
---
"Thank you," Blair said, finally. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your reconsidering this."
Eli was beaming, and the chancellor allowed herself a smile, and for an instant Blair felt guilty about dashing their hopes - but then he thought about Jim, and he took another breath, and unknowingly he flexed his uninjured left foot as he spoke again. "But I'm going to have to turn you down."
Outside, in the waiting room, Jim coughed loudly. So much for not listening in, Blair thought, trying not to laugh. The whole thing was starting to seem funny: Jim trying to hide his surprise with fake throat-clearings, the almost-comical look of surprise on the chancellor's face.
Blair hoped his smile looked appropriately apologetic. "I've made a commitment to the Cascade PD," he said, and - holding up a hand to forestall their objections - "and more importantly, to Detective Ellison."
He glanced over at Eli, who was nodding thoughtfully. He looked disappointed, but not crushed - and not, Blair thought, terribly surprised.
"I'd still like to put out a press release indicating that you've been exonerated by the University," Eli said. The chancellor, recovering her composure, nodded quickly in assent.
"That would be great. Thank you."
There was a silence.
"If you'll excuse me," Blair started, and the chancellor stood and offered her hand.
"If you change your mind, Mr. Sandburg, we'll be here."
There were nods and handshakes all around, and then the heavy door swung open and Blair stepped outside.
---
As they half-jogged down the marble stairs, Blair placed a hand on Jim's back. "You okay?"
They stopped at the landing and Jim turned to him, his eyes guarded. "Sandburg, are you absolutely sure-"
Blair reached up and placed a finger on Jim's lips, shushing him, enjoying for just an instant the softness of Jim's mouth. "Yep."
"You said you didn't want...." Jim's voice stopped.
Blair blew out a breath, half-exasperated, half-charmed. As usual where Jim was concerned, really.
"I wasn't sure why you were keeping me around," he admitted. "Whether it was for the right reasons, you know? I figured it'd be...hard for you, having a partner who got as much shit as I'm gonna get, and if you were just offering me the job because it seemed like the thing to do -"
"-I wasn't." Jim's voice was quiet.
"I know. I know that now. That's part of why I changed my mind."
"What about the assholes at the station?"
"Jeez, Jim. You said they'd forget abut it and move on." Blair narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't that true?"
Jim leaned back against the brick wall, arms folded. "You seemed adamant."
His stance was protective, but Blair couldn't tell if he was protecting himself or protecting Blair. Trying to protect Blair. From what he thought Blair didn't want.
"I think I figured out my dream," Blair said, and Jim leaned forward immediately, the distance in his posture replaced with an intense curiosity that bordered on interrogation. His tone, though, belied the interest his body showed: he sounded sarcastic.
"The wolf said you belonged in the PD?"
Hey, man, you're not fooling me, Blair thought, holding back a smile. "The dream said Rainier was holding me back. It said I needed to let the PhD go and run with you." The worry in Jim's face wasn't evaporating. "I get it now, okay?"
"Get what?"
"That you really want me to be your partner," Blair said, trying to infuse the last word with a hint of what the last twenty-four hours had meant. "Don't you?"
"Hell, yes." It was working: the furrows in Jim's brow were smoothing, and - bonus! - there was a slight huskiness to his voice that told Blair his attempt at infusing the word with meaning had worked.
"So show me," Blair whispered. His body was abuzz with excitement, wondering if Jim would hear that they were alone, if they could kiss in the stairwell without getting caught.
But Jim didn't reach for him. He slipped a hand inside his leather jacket and withdrew his cell phone.
Blair felt a wash of embarrassment. Had he misread Jim's cues? Maybe he shouldn't have whispered that in the middle of the administration building....
His self-recriminations quieted when he heard Jim's voice; he couldn't help listening.
"Rhonda? Gimme Simon."
And then, a moment later, "Sir? Yeah.... No, I'm at the university. Uh-huh."
Another pause. "I'd like the day, Sir."
Blair felt the grin break out on his face. Even as his mind raced, imagining all the things they could do to each other during an entire day in bed, he strained to hear Simon's voice. He couldn't quite make it out. Was he shouting? Did he want explanations? What was he saying? Did he have any idea why Jim was taking a personal day? Blair felt giddy.
"Thanks. Mm-hmm." Jim was nodding, out of force of habit, as if Simon could see him. "I understand. Nine o'clock sharp."
The cellphone clicked shut, Jim cocked his head for an instant, and then he pulled Blair close. "Let's head home," he whispered just above Blair's lips, the feel of his breath making Blair tingle. The kiss was slow and intense, and when Jim spoke again his voice was pitched low, which made Blair feel like he was catching fire, like he might burn up before they made it even as far as the truck. "...Partner."