Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to e-mail me.
This is a sequel to Specter' Gamble </nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/specters-gamble/>. You don't have to read the first one in order to get this one, but it would make it easier to understand the characters in this story.
"So, how does the whole Guardians thing work anyway?" Sam asked an hour or so later, when Blair's arms were wrapped around him tightly, as if Blair was afraid that Sam would take off running the minute he lets go of him.
"It's a job," Blair shrugged. "More intense than the others, but a job nevertheless."
"Well..." Sam shifted slightly next to him, the back of his head resting on Blair's shoulder. "What do you do, exactly?"
"We..." Blair entwined his fingers with Sam's. "Okay, each month has four weeks, right?"
"Uh huh..."
"Well, each week corresponds to a certain element. Mine is the second. So when I say something like, `It's my time of the month,' don't freak out..."
Sam laughed at that.
"For that entire week, I'm gonna be gone, and when I come back, I will probably sleep for two days in a row... Well, a week and a half now, to be exact," he sighed. "Used to be just a week but..."
"Right," Sam muttered. "The Air, huh?"
"Yeah," Blair sighed again, more heavily this time.
"Why did he do it?" Sam shifted again, and now he was looking into the other man's eyes.
"I don't know," Blair shrugged. "Neither of us does. It came out of the blue, without any warning... One of those days, he simply took off and never came back... And then we were informed about the Pledge... The worst thing was that even Daniel had no idea about anything..."
"Who is Daniel?"
"Earth," Blair's fingers wrapped tighter around Sam's hand. "They used to be mates... Oh, man, Daniel was a mess after that whole thing... The first year or so, he wouldn't even talk to anyone... I mean, he would answer questions, of course, say something job-related, do his usual rounds, but that was about it... He is somewhat better now, even though he is a hell of a lot less friendly than he used to be. Can't blame him though..." he shrugged again. "Shit like that would make me lose it completely if I were him... But he was always the levelheaded one, the composed one... The Earth," he gave Sam a small smile. "Fire is a bit different," he coughed. "When I am not pissed, I control it like nobody else ever could... When I am pissed, however, it kinda..." he coughed again. "Kinda starts controlling me," he finished with a small nod.
"I remember Harald story," Sam nodded solemnly, and Blair grinned.
"Yeah," he said. "After that I realized that I needed to start getting some self-control discipline... Can't just walk around burning random idiots."
"What do you do on `your time of the month'?" Sam asked, and Blair snorted at that.
"Getting no sleep whatsoever," he sighed. "Checking out everything, making sure that nothing is out of the ordinary, keeping yourself tuned to the balance... The last part is more complicated now," he sighed again. "The balance is screwed up, so there is much more pressure to deal with... When everything was equal, it was no problem, but now..." he shook his head. "Everything constantly feels wrong, so you have to figure out when it's the normal kind of `wrong,' and when it's not..."
"What happens if it's not the normal kind?" Sam asked seriously without looking away from Blair's eyes.
"Then you start praying that it's just a figment of your sleep-deprived imagination, and call for everyone else. Get all four... Three together, analyze it as much as you can... If it's a figment, you get a thump on the head for false alarm, and if it's not..." Blair shrugged. "If it's not, then you prepare for all hell to break loose."
"Has it happened?" Sam asked with a frown.
"Not yet," Blair shook his head. "But it's been two years, and there are still only three of us... Claudia can't find the new Air, and believe me when I say it, she's been looking nonstop... I don't think she sleeps more than fifteen hours a week if that... Damn Air is..."
"The hardest element to find a Guardian for, I know," Sam nodded, and Blair blinked at that. "Gabriel told me," he nodded calmly.
"I see," Blair said thoughtfully.
"So, wait," Sam shifted again, and ended up pressing his chin into the other man's collarbone. "It's the last week of August... That means you'll be gone in two weeks?"
"Yes," Blair sighed. "I'll be back though... I promise," he said in a soft voice, pressing his lips against Sam's forehead.
Sam slid his arms around the older man's neck, and those lips, somehow, ended up on his mouth again. He didn't mind that at all.
Sam had no idea how and when he fell asleep. Blair turned on the TV, and they were paying attention to whatever was happening on the screen for ten minutes or so, and then the TV became nothing but white noise. Some time after that, Sam passed out, his face buried in Blair's chest, their fingers entwined together. He dreamt strange dreams. In his dream, he was walking on some cliff, next to the ruined abandoned watchtower, wild water splashing far beneath him. He was walking towards a silent call, which was calling him desperately. It wasn't a voice he was following; it was just some silent urgent signal that was pulsating under his skin, making him itch with desire to hurry up already.
He wasn't exactly sure if he *wanted *to go there; he felt, however, that he had to do that. He walked slowly, trying to resist the call, but the power of it was simply too much, so he kept on walking. His left shoulder blade was pulsating and itching viciously, as if he was bitten by some very angry ants. He scratched it absent-mindedly, but the itching only got worse. He frowned when he realized that he could feel flaming heat brushing against his fingertips the second he touched that itching spot. He turned his head and pulled off his shirt slightly, trying to see what was on his skin. The only thing he saw was some golden glow.
Suddenly, he heard mad barking behind his back, and he turned around. A big white dog was chasing after him with desperate speed. "Specter," Sam muttered and tried to stop. His body didn't obey and he kept on walking. The dog ran faster, barking nonstop, as if saying, "Stop!" Sam's fingers wrapped around the old wooden doorknob on the door of the watchtower, and he turned it, wincing slightly from the screeching angry sound the open door produced. He tried stopping himself once again, gritting his teeth in the impossible effort, when his right foot crossed the threshold and he...
"Wake up! Sam...! Wake up...!"
He moaned and his eyes flew wide open.
"What..." he muttered, realizing that his heart was racing and his hands were shaking.
"You were shaking," Blair said softly and ran his fingers across Sam's face. "Bad dream?"
"I guess..." Sam frowned slightly. "I..." he frowned deeper. "I don't remember..." he muttered finally. "I just remember Specter was there..."
"Specter?" Blair repeated with a confused frown.
"My dog," Sam muttered and straightened up. "What time is it?" he looked around with puzzlement. "It's dark..."
"It's..." Blair tried to look at his watch, and suddenly, Sam's phone let out a shrill ring.
Sam reached for the table where he left it earlier, flipped it open, and pressed it against his ear.
"Yeah..." he muttered.
"Kid," the phone said darkly. "Where the hell are you? I want to go to sleep, but Rayhe just glares at me every time I say something... Are you coming home tonight or what?"
"Oh..." Sam coughed. "I... Desmond, what time is it?"
"It's one in the morning, Sam," the phone said even darker.
"Oh..." Sam said again. "Crap, sorry about that... I fell asleep... Yeah, I'll be there..."
"Since I am going to wait for you apparently," the phone's intonation got colder. "Get your ass here sooner rather than later... I want to go to sleep! I have to go to school tomorrow morning! I have less than a week until the semester starts."
"Ugh, yeah," Sam sighed guiltily. "Sorry, Desmond, I..."
"Just move it," the phone interrupted him, and then the line clicked dead.
Sam sighed and snapped his phone shut.
"It's one in the morning," he said.
"Yeah," Blair said in somewhat guilty voice. "Sorry, I didn't realize how late it was... You are not going to be in troubles, are you?" he frowned slightly. "That guy... Desmond..."
"No," Sam shook his head immediately, small smile crossing his lips. "He might fume for a bit, but he'll be fine."
"Who is he?" Blair let go of Sam's fingers reluctantly. "What does he do?"
"He is an instructor at the military school," Sam flipped on the light switch and winced when the bright light attacked his eyes immediately.
"Oh, the military type then?" Blair got up as well.
"Kinda," Sam said vaguely.
"Hard-ass, shaved head, and such?" Blair followed him into the hallway where Sam put on his sneakers.
Sam remembered Desmond's skinny frame and long black hair, and he blinked, trying to hide the smile.
"Not quite," he said and straightened up after the sneakers were securely on his feet. "Blair, I need to go. He is waiting for me, and he needs to go to school tomorrow morning. When he doesn't get at least six hours of sleep, he is pain in the ass... Plus, if that smell is still present in his car..." he sighed without finishing the sentence.
"Right," Blair nodded. "Come over tomorrow," he said when Sam pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "After you wake up..."
"Yeah," Sam threw him a quick glance. "I will... Do you want me to call you or..."
"No," Blair didn't smile this time. "Just come over."
"Okay," Sam said quietly.
He opened the front door, and right before he walked outside, Blair spun him around and Sam almost forgot about Desmond and how big of a pain in the ass he would be tomorrow if he didn't get his sleep tonight. He remembered about him when he started wondering why the hell they are kissing on the front step of the house instead of moving to the couch where it would be much more comfortable.
"Mmm," he breathed and pulled away. "Blair, I need to go..."
"Yeah..." Blair breathed in the same panting manner. "Yeah, sure... I'll see you tomorrow..."
He watched Sam get into his car and drive away, and then he locked the door and went into the kitchen. He was wiping the counter absent-mindedly with a paper towel, his mind replaying this entire evening, taste of Sam's mouth on his tongue, his heartbeat tingling in his fingertips... He blinked when he realized that his fingertips were indeed tingling. He looked down and saw that the paper towel he was wiping the kitchen counter with, was ablaze.
"Shit!" he hissed, and threw it into the sink. Then he stared at the black burnt spot in the middle of the counter and sighed deeply. Finally, he unplugged the coffeemaker, sat it on top of the black spot, looked at it for a minute or two, and shrugged. "The cord is long enough," he muttered after making sure that it was indeed. "It's all good."
When Sam finally got home, it was 1:45. He let out a small sigh before walking inside the house.
"Finally!" Desmond rolled his eyes and got up, pushing the chair aside. "Good night, everyone!"
"Desmond..."
"Night, Sam," Desmond waved his hand in the air. "Rayhe, don't even think about waking me up!" He walked away without waiting for any reply. Sam winced slightly when he heard the bedroom door slam.
"Gabriel, sorry about that," he said with another sigh. "I fell asleep."
"It's okay," Gabriel seemed to be in his usual mild mood. "I just wanted to make sure everything is okay before going to bed."
"Why didn't you just let him go to sleep?" Sam kicked off his sneakers. "You know how he gets when he doesn't get his sleep..."
"Yeah, well," Rayhe grinned. "I do it on daily basis, and he had three months off, so I wanted him to be in the same boat with me for once."
"I see," Sam hemmed. "Where is Specter?" he looked around with a small frown.
"In your room," Gabriel sighed. "I didn't want Des to get even more pissed off. Well, night Sam," he got up and fixed the chair that Desmond shoved aside a few minutes earlier.
"Night, Gabriel," Sam smiled.
"How's Eve?" Gabriel paused before getting into the bedroom. "I mean, apparently everything is going great," he shrugged. "Bring her over sometimes... Well, when he gets enough sleep, that is," he muttered and nodded towards the bedroom.
"Yeah," Sam made sure he didn't cringe. "I will... Night, Gabriel..."
Rayhe gave him a quick smile and disappeared in the bedroom. Sam felt guilty and embarrassed. He never lied to either one of them before. Not like he is lying now... Technically, he never said that he spent the last two days with Eve... Both -- Desmond and Gabriel -- simply assumed that was the case...
"Dammit..." Sam grumbled and turned off the lights before going into his room. Specter let out a high-pitch yelp the second Sam walked in, and Sam quickly hushed him. Suddenly, the dog stared at him with confusion and took several steps back.
"What?" Sam frowned. The dog kept staring at him without moving, the tip of his tail jerking tentatively, as if the dog wasn't sure whether he wanted to lick Sam to death or to dive under the bed. "Specter, what the hell is wrong with you?" Sam whispered with frustration. "You were fine yesterday with his scent all over me... What is it now?" The dog didn't answer, of course, but his ears moved nervously.
"Specter, come on..." Sam reached out for him, and the dog stepped away. "Goddammit..." Sam muttered. "I don't know what your problem is, Specter... I am going to bed, good night!" He pulled off his clothes without even bothering with the pajamas, turned off the lights, and dove into bed.
Gabriel slid under the blanket and glanced at the pretending-to-be-asleep figure next to him.
"I know you are awake," he muttered and ran his fingers through that black long hair.
"I am opposite of awake," was the reply he got.
Rayhe grinned and scooted closer.
"No you are not," he whispered and traced the neckline under all that hair with his fingertips.
"Rayhe, do you want to die?"
"Not at the moment, no," Gabriel said sincerely and his fingers became more insistent.
"Goddammit... Rayhe, all I want to do right now is sleep, okay...? Ohh, son of a..."
"Really," Gabriel hemmed, his hand sliding downwards under the blanket. "Hmm, I beg to differ..."
"Rayhe, stop this right... Mmm... Yeah, right there... Mmm..."
"Stop right there...?"
"Asshole..."
"You told me to stop..."
"I am going to murder you one of those days... You started it, don't stop now..."
"Des, go easy on him... He seems happy... He finally met someone, that is... Ohh, do that again... Uh huh, that... Mmm..."
"I know that's great, but there is something..."
"Mmm... What? `There is something' what? You can talk and do that at the same time, you know... Those are two different functions... You can multitask, can't you?"
"Yes, I can multitask... Prove enough?"
"Ahhh... Yeah... Keep... Ohh, keep going..."
"There is something... I don't know... Something feels off, you know?"
"Mmm..."
"Rayhe, concentrate for a second, will you?"
"I am concentrating... Go on..."
"As I was saying, something feels off... He looks guilty somehow... Guilty and scared..."
"Well, of course he feels guilty; it's almost two in the morning... As for scared... Have you looked at yourself in the mirror when you are pissed? Can't blame him, really... I didn't tell you to stop..."
"Nonsense! It doesn't matter how pissed I am; I will never do anything to him, and he knows that. It's something else. Different kind of guilt and different kind of fright... Rayhe, are you even listening to me?"
"Uh huh... Mmm... I am... Ohh... I am listening... Different..."
"Dammit... Rayhe, I am telling you, something is off... You are working at the bank; you should have a fairly decent database, right...? Rayhe!"
"Huh...? Why did you stop?"
"What did I just say?"
"Database, I've heard you... What do you want with the damn database?"
"Look up that name; shouldn't be too hard. It wasn't very common."
"Evelynne, right?"
"Evelienne."
"Right... I'll remember..."
"Like hell you will... I will write it down for you in the morning. Look her up, see who she is, what she does... I suspect she is not much older than Sam... Hmm, or at least she doesn't look much older... Okay, forget the age, just look up the name... You will remember, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, don't stop...!"
"Damn you, Rayhe! This is a legitimate worry, you know... If I sense that something is off, do you know what it usually means?"
"That something is off?"
"Exactly! I might've changed my name but I didn't change myself, okay?"
"You didn't change your name... You simply are using your actual name, and not a nick, that's all..."
"Semantics..."
"Okay, Des, I promise I will look her up tomorrow morning! I will do it as soon as I get there, okay? Do you want me to sign something with my blood now?"
"No, that would not be necessary..."
"Good, now stop talking... Oh, by the way..."
"Mmm...?"
"If I don't find her in our files, it's not going to mean anything... It would only mean that she is not on our files... We don't have every single person in the city in our system, you know... We are a bank, not militia headquarters..."
"I know that... If you don't find her... Oh, holy hell! Rayhe, I was... Oh!"
"You were saying...?"
"Goddammit... Mmm... If you don't find her, I will... Ohh... I will do it myself... Oh, yeah, right... Ohh... Right there... Oh, bloody hell, yes! What are you... What are you doing...? Are you singing? Rayhe, what the hell... Oh my God... Make that song a long one, will you? Take every single chorus... Oh God, and I thought you were tone-deaf... Oh, shit, Gab... Gabriel, slow down... Seriously... Ohh..."
...Desmond didn't fall asleep until almost four in the morning, and when the alarm went off at 7:30, he seriously contemplated a very gruesome murder.