This is the standard disclaimer. They don't belong to me. This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by Paramount, UPN, or Pet Fly Productions.
Author’s Notes: I wrote a snippet for a Sentinel Thursday challenge titled Puppy Tails. This is an expanded version of that snippet, set in Amethyst’s Father Figure Universe. The story contains spanking. It is unbeta’d.
Special thanks to Amethyst for once again allowing me to play in her wonderful universe.
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Blair eased his way carefully through the twisted maze of splintered wood and chunks of concrete. Dust filled air clogged his nostrils and hampered his vision as he crawled along the floor. Patches of daylight filtered in haphazardly.
The muffled, low pitched sniffling and whimpering was getting closer now.
Reaching what looked to be a doorway, Blair worked his way to his knees and leaned against the fractured wood, pushing cautiously. A low groaning sound filled his ears as the door creaked in protest. Holding his breath, and sending a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening, Blair gave a final shove and the wood broke free.
He crawled into the room and looked around. There wasn’t as much damage here. The blast hadn’t managed to collapse the roof yet, but he could see the plaster starting to give way under the weight bearing down from above.
A small child sat in one corner, crying softly.
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Blair hurried over to the child, murmuring reassurances the whole time. The little girl didn’t resist as Blair gathered her into his arms. She buried her head in his chest and clung tightly to him as he quickly started back the way he’d come.
Once through the door, the girl became frantic, pulling to free herself from Blair and twisting to peer back into the room.
“My puppy. My puppy. My puppy.”
Blair glanced back into the room and noticed a small furry body lying very still not far from where the girl had been.
“I’m sorry, honey. We’ve got to get out of here.” Holding the squirming body tighter, Blair hurried back through the debris filled passage; the pitiful chant ringing in his ears.
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Jim paced back and forth in front of the narrow opening they’d found upon arriving at the scene. As they’d jumped from the truck, a hysterical woman had met them. She’d been outside, pulling weeds in the garden, when the explosion shook the neighborhood, leveling several houses instantly.
Her four-year old daughter was inside, napping, when the blast ripped apart the factory in the next block over.
The hole had been too small for Jim to squeeze through, so Blair was now inside.
They’d had a very short argument over whether or not Blair should go in, but between the young mother’s frantic pleas and the little girl’s frightened sobs, Jim relented. The sirens, heralding rescue personnel on the way, were too far off to wait. The house could collapse completely at any time. If Blair moved fast and avoided the weakened areas Jim indicated, it should be all right.
The sentinel looked into the narrow passage and piggybacked his enhanced hearing to locate the child. He quickly explained to Blair the fastest way to reach her, and the young man had set off.
Jim tracked his guide’s movements; wincing each time another ominous sounding crack signaled a possible cave-in.
Jim sighed in relief as Blair’s head and shoulders popped out of the opening. He leaned down and Blair thrust the distraught child into his waiting arms.
Additional help began arriving now; emergency personnel swarmed through the streets and yards offering assistance. Jim handed off the little girl to a waiting EMT and turned to help Blair.
All he saw was his guide’s tail end scurrying back into the rubble.
Low pitched and gravelly, Jim’s voice broke as he called out. “Saaaaand-burg!” The jean-clad butt didn’t stop. “Damn it! Blair! Get your tail back here! Now!”
Blair’s breathless voice drifted back to him. “I’m going back for her puppy, Jim.”
Jim listened intensely. Except for Blair’s breathing and heartbeat, no sounds of life echoed from the house.
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Blair made better time on his second foray into the mess. He made it to the girl’s room, and crossed to where the puppy still lay, unmoving.
He lifted it gently off the floor.
“Awwww, shit.” Blair looked into the glassy, black eyes of the lifeless form in his arms. “Jim is gonna kill me.”
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“I’m gonna kill him.” Jim was pacing again, and muttering under his breath.
The building in front of him shuddered.
Jim’s hearing picked up the creaks and groans of the roof giving way just seconds before what was left of the ranch style house crashed to the ground.
Jim stared in horror and whispered in disbelief. “Blair.”
He turned and shouted, waving his arms at several police officers headed toward the blast site. “I need help over here!”
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It took forty-five minutes of painstakingly slow work to clear the rubble from around Blair. Jim worked side by side with his fellow officers until the last piece of shattered wood was cautiously lifted.
Blair lay on his stomach, his hands covering his head protectively, groaning. Jim knelt at his side, running sensitive fingertips over Blair’s body, checking for injuries. Finding only scrapes, minor cuts and bruises, Jim let out a long sigh of relief.
“Shh, kiddo, shhh. It’s all right. You’re okay.” Jim helped his son roll to his back. He plopped down on his butt and gently maneuvered Blair’s head and shoulders into his lap. He grinned at the dirty, grimy face as he brushed dust and debris from Blair’s eyes, cheeks and mouth.
Blair returned a weak, shaky smile. “I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?” Jim just chuckled softly, nodding his head.
Jim allowed himself to be pushed back out of the way as the paramedics arrived and took over. He sat on the open tailgate of his truck; his head in his hands, letting them do their job. Blair’s heartbeat was strong and steady. He’d been very lucky, making it to within a few feet of the opening when the house collapsed.
“Mister?” Jim looked up wearily at the sound of the woman’s quiet voice. “I wanted to thank you. You and your partner.” The woman held the sleeping girl in her arms. Dried tear tracks streaked her face. “Will he be all right? Why did he go back in?”
Jim glanced over at the ambulance. “He went back for your little girl’s puppy.”
The woman blinked at Jim in confusion. “We don’t have a puppy.”
Jim looked at the woman and then at the ambulance again. A paramedic was waving at him now, signaling him to come over. “He’ll be all right.” Jim reassured the woman as he got up and starting striding toward the ambulance. “Right up until I get my hands on him.”
Jim could hear Blair arguing with an EMT as he neared the gurney the kid was on.
“What’s the problem?” Jim’s authoritative voice cut through the air like a knife. ”I need to check his vitals and he won’t let go.”
Jim looked down at Blair and smiled wickedly. “It’s not gonna save you, Junior.”
Blair ceased struggling and looked up at his dad apprehensively, a nervous crooked smile on his dirt smeared face.
Clutched protectively to Blair’s chest in a near-death grip was a large gray and white stuffed dog.
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Blair’s injuries weren’t severe or life threatening, so a trip to the ED was deemed unnecessary. All area hospitals were overflowing already with injured people from the blast as well as anxious family members and extra staff.
The trip to the loft was made in tense silence. Jim helped Blair from the truck and assisted the wobbly youngster to their building and into the elevator. The ride to the third floor was agonizingly slow. Jim kept a reassuring arm around Blair’s shoulders the entire time, rubbing his upper arm and squeezing gently every few moments.
Blair hung his head. Needlessly endangering his life, coupled with a complete disregard for Jim’s order not to go back into the unsafe structure, meant a long and painful evening awaited him.
As they entered the loft, Jim quickly assumed control.
“Go take a shower, kiddo, and get cleaned up. I’ll fix us something to eat.” He gave Blair a no nonsense look. “And then we’ll discuss things.”
And involuntary smile crept across Blair’s face. The euphemism, ‘discuss things’, was one he usually used when referring to an upcoming spanking. Jim normally had no qualms about stating very clearly and consicely what Blair’s butt could expect when one of ‘The Rules’ had been broken.
As they finished eating, Jim decided he had a few things to say to his son, which were just as important…no more important, than the punishment discussion.
“Listen, kiddo, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Blair immediately began squirming; he’d hoped to delay the inevitable as long as possible. His motor mouth took off.
“I know, Jim, I know. It was a stupid, dangerous thing to do, man. It was just the adrenaline rush, you know? I didn’t know it was just a stuffed dog. There’s no way, man, no fucking way I’d of gone back in, you know that…”
“Stuff it, Junior.” Jim’s amused voice halted Blair’s rambling. “And watch your mouth.”
Blair looked down at his plate, and started trailing his fork through the remnants of his meal. “Sorry.”
“Look at me, Blair.”
Blair? Shit. Here it comes.
Blair sighed and looked up, meeting Jim’s gaze head on.
“I’m very proud of you, son. You saved that little girl’s life today. What you did was completely unselfish and one of the bravest things I’ve ever witnessed.” Jim smiled fondly at his son, and his voice broke slightly. “I l-love you, son.”
Blair blinked rapidly, as tears started to pool. He stared at his father wordlessly for the space of several heartbeats.
And then they were both on their feet, hugging. Jim kissed Blair’s forehead, and tucked Blair’s head close to his chest, resting his chin on the mop of curls.
Blair mumbled into the fabric of Jim’s shirt. “’ove you too, ‘im.”
Jim savored the moment, and then reluctantly loosened his hold.
“It’s been a long day, kiddo. Let’s take care of business and get you to bed.”
Blair nodded his head as Jim pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat. He pushed his sweats and boxers down to his knees, and Jim pulled him down across his lap.
Jim immediately started rubbing Blair’s back in small circular patterns. “Tell me why you’re in this position?”
“I broke the rules.” Blair’s voice sing-songed testily. After Jim’s statement about him saving the little girl, it seemed a bit unfair to be in this position.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Can the attitude, kiddo. Your being over my knee has nothing to do with going in after the little girl.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “And you know it.”
Blair hated when Jim did that. It was as if he could read his thoughts.
“All right! Number four, I broke rule number four! But it’s not fair! How could I know it wasn’t a real puppy? It was the adrenaline! Really!”
Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.
“First of all…” Smack. Smack. “Any rescue training will tell you…” Smack. Smack. “You never go back into any hazardous situation for a pet.” Smack. Smack. “A pet, no matter how loved…” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Is not worth risking your life over.”
“Augh! Owwww! All right! I’m sorry! Owwwww!”
Blair’s butt was quickly warming and coloring a deep pink as Jim continued spanking.
“Secondly…” Smack. Smack. Smack. “I told you to get back out.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “I’m not even going to give you a chance to say you didn’t hear me, young man.”
“OWWWWW! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! I’m sorry! I heard you!”
Jim stepped up the spanking, delivering rapid heavy swats to the wiggling bottom until it glowed a rosy red.
Blair started crying; he was tired and the adrenaline kick was finally wearing off, due in no small part to the searing pain from the spanking.
“Please, dad! OUCH! Stop?”
Jim’s hand halted in midair. He brought it down on Blair’s back and once again started the gentle, soothing, circular strokes across the boy’s shoulders.
Blair launched himself off Jim’s lap and replaced his boxers and sweatpants, hissing quietly as the fabric brushed across his tender bottom.
Sniffling quietly, he ran the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes and under his nose.
Jim pulled his son into a hug once again. “Shhh, kiddo. It’s over. Time for bed.”
Blair just nodded and padded down the hall to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he joined Jim in his room. He crawled into bed and lay on his stomach, still hitching his breath involuntarily.
Jim pulled the comforter up over Blair’s body and turned to leave.
“Jim?” Blair’s voice was soft and shaky. “What if it’d been Tiny?”
So that was it.
Having been denied a pet, or even a friend while growing up, Blair would have seen the chance to save what he thought was a live puppy for a scared child as an acceptable risk.
Jim returned to Blair’s bed and sat on the edge. He reached over and gently stroked his son’s forehead, brushing stray curls off the furrowed brow.
“Listen to me, Blair.” Jim’s voice took on a hard tone. “You are the most important thing in the world to me. I know this might sound harsh, but if it had been Tiny, and the choice was between Tiny and even the slightest chance of you being harmed, Tiny would lose. Every time.” He thumped Blair lightly on the back of the head. “Got it, Junior?”
Blair seemed to consider this for a minute. “Yeah, but what if…”
Jim rolled his eyes dramatically and this time whacked Blair’s backside, causing the youngster to jump and quickly reach a hand back to protect his already abused rump.
“No if’s, kiddo.” Jim stood and placed his hands on his hips, effectively bringing the conversation to a close. “Now go to sleep.”
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Jim sat on the couch, slouched comfortably into the cushions, his legs stretched out and crossed, feet resting on the coffee table. He held an empty beer bottle in one hand, and was absentmindedly picking at the label as he watched the news.
Reports of the explosion were on every channel and Jim had tuned out the constant rehashing of the details as he contemplated the day’s events. Blair’s soft snores and steady heartbeat sent a reassuring message to his overprotective paternal soul.
A face on the television screen caught his attention and he focused his attention on the woman whose little girl Blair had rescued. She was being interviewed about her experience and still had a slightly shell-shocked look about her.
“…even know his name. Kylie would’ve been trapped in there, she’d be…” The woman hitched a breath, and shook off the somber thought. “Whoever he is, he’s a hero.”
Jim smiled and spoke to the screen. “His name is Blair Ellison.”
End