Up Up and Away
Betaed by Bobbie
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. If I did they would have been far funnier.
Jim stood, fisted hands balled up on his hips, shoulders thrown back and head held up high. Blair took a deep breath, walked out of his small bedroom and over to stand beside his Sentinel.
Blair eyed the other man warily. Ellison had on a black, form fitting tunic, with a hood that went over the top of his head and part way down over his face like a mask, and extremely tight…tights. The flowing cape and red “SM” on his chest rounded out the ensemble nicely.
Black leather boots added two and half inches to his already impressive 6’ 2 ¾” frame; the fact that the added height made him taller than Simon Banks, Jim’s captain, apparently filled Ellison with glee. His gloves were black, as well. It was almost like looking at a moonless night.
Sighing, Blair glanced down and winced at what he saw. He too had on the requisite tights and tunic, but no cape. Also, he wasn’t wearing camouflaging black. Instead, Blair’s torso was covered in bright green and his legs were clad in a dark brown, all the way down to his boots and Blair’s gloves matched the brown footwear. Oh yeah, and for some unfathomable reason, Blair had a tail, a long, black tail that curled up on the end.
“We look ridiculous,” Blair exclaimed.
“Nonsense, Chief.” Jim shook his head. “I have it all worked out. We wear our undercover, nighttime surveillance gear and I can safely use my Sentinel senses without getting caught.”
Blair’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me, right?” The Guide hoped Jim was joking, in fact, he prayed for it.
“No, no.” Jim waved a hand expansively. “Our disguises will perfectly hide our identities.”
The younger man looked Jim up and down. “Man, you aren’t hiding anything.”
Ellison gave a hearty, booming laugh and slapped Blair on the back. The smaller man staggered at the gesture and eyed his friend, wondering secretly if drugs were involved here.
“Good one, GD.”
“Yeah, and that’s another thing. What the hell does GD stand for anyway?”
“Uh, say what?” Blair looked down at the fancy, stylized letters on his chest. “Guide, I get, man, but Dog?”
“Well, you needed a code name. Guide just sounds silly, but adding the dog made sense.”
“Why’s that?” Blair asked in morbid curiosity.
“Because of the tail on your costume.” Ellison looked at Blair seriously, as if that explained everything and he must be a trifle slow not to have figured that out.
“Yeah, that’s another thing; why exactly do I have the tail on my…outfit?”
“To go with your code name, Chief.” Ellison shook his head and straightened his cape.
“But…oh, never mind.” Blair’s head was swimming with Ellison’s circular rationalization. The younger man resigned himself to having a dog’s tail.
“Besides, you need something, since you don’t have a cape.”
‘Why don’t I have a cape?’ Mentally Blair slapped himself. Why would I want to? he queried himself.
Jim walked around the loft, making sure that nothing had been left on and the thermostat was turned up. After all, there was no sense cooling the place if no one was home, right?
“What do we do if we meet someone we know?” Blair asked.
“I don’t understand what you mean?” the Sentinel said, as he tilted his head to one side.
Blair had to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Man, people will know that it’s us. A mask on half our faces doesn’t do jack squat to hide our identities.”
“Don’t worry.” Jim patted Blair on the shoulder consolingly. “They won’t recognize us at all.”
Blair fingered his trademark, shoulder length, russet curls. He shook his head; they were so dead meat.
“You’re safe now, ma’am,” Blair said to the older woman.
He was using his guide voice, the one that soothed Jim when his nerves were frayed. The anthropologist figured that an attempted carjacking fell under the frayed nerves category.
The night hadn’t been anything like Blair had thought it would be. After hurrying down the main stairs at the apartment complex—Jim had wanted to leap from the balcony, but fortunately, Blair had reminded him that, unlike comic book heroes, they broke easily—they had headed out into the streets.
It didn’t take them long to find someone to help; it was Cascade, after all. The woman’s screams had been loud enough for Blair to hear them, let alone a Sentinel.
The Sentinel had leapt off the sidewalk and directly in the path of the stolen car. Blair’s heart had crawled up in his throat and tried to shoot out his ears. He guessed that he needed to reinforce that breaking easily bit of information.
The black, swirling cape had either mesmerized the would-be-thief; either that, or he’d been shocked that anyone was that dumb. Either way, he slammed on his breaks, hard enough that he deployed the air bag.
Jim was magnificent, at least in Blair’s humble opinion. The Sentinel strode around the car and pulled the villainous criminal from the vehicle. He soon had the dazed perpetrator subdued—i.e., he pulled a pair of zip ties from somewhere inside his tights and tied him up.
“He’s wonderful,” the older woman said breathlessly. She glanced down and gave a wicked smile, “So are you.”
Blair’s eyes flicked down and he blushed. Seeing his Sentinel being so, so out there, had given him a hard on to end all hard on’s. In a costume as tight as his, it was impossible to hide the bulge. But still, it was kind of disconcerting to be ogled by someone who could be your grandmother.
She turned her attention back to Jim and Blair pouted. Hey, he thought in his mind, I was there too.
Such was the lot of the sidekick, Blair decided. Just like when he was a ride along, Blair resigned himself to being ignored most of the time.
Several police cars came screaming up at that moment. Blair braced himself, because he and Jim were wearing masks, after all.
The officers who poured out of the cars were mostly strangers to Blair, but he knew that some of them had worked with Jim in the past. Bracing himself for the worst, Blair, you know, braced himself. But nothing happened.
The cops grabbed the bad guy, consoled the victim and acted like seeing two men in tights and masks was an everyday occurrence. It was, but just in some of the raunchier clubs.
Then it happened. Captain Simon Banks drove up in his gas guzzling, butt bucket of a car. The large man looked around at the scene as he took a report from one of the arresting officers. He nodded his head and kept looking over at Jim. Blair hurried over to the Sentinel’s side to offer support, his face turning a bright shade of red.
Simon strode over to the dynamic duo, err, pair. Blair braced himself for even more humiliation, because when Banks unmasked them, it was going to be embarrassing as hell.
“I don’t know who you are, stranger, but I want to thank you for the fine job you did tonight.”
Blair blinked in surprise. They were basically vigilantes and Simon was thanking them?! Scarier yet, he didn’t recognize them?!
“Thank you, sir. I’m so glad we could help.”
Blair’s mouth fell open. Jim was at least trying to disguise his voice by talking in a softer tone and using an accent. But it was the Texas drawl he’d used in a case years ago. It had been a bad Texas accent then and hadn’t improved in the meantime.
Sandburg smacked his forehead and then rolled his eyes. ‘Heaven help us, this is the police force?!’
“Don’t you worry, captain,” Jim drawled, as he wrapped an arm around Blair’s waist. “As long as my sidekick and I are around, the bad guys won’t stand a chance.”
Sidekick? Blair wondered. He looked around at the small crowd that had gathered and saw the awestruck looks on most of their faces.
“Geez!” Guide Dog moaned out.
Simon and Sentinel Man shook hands. Then the pair of them raced off into the night, to save more helpless victims.