Date: Mon, 3 May 2010 09:34:31 -0600 From: Katya_Dee Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 7 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. 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. - VII - When they got inside the little store at the gas station, Sam realized that the clerk behind the counter was the same one who said, "You break it, you buy it!" to him this morning. The clerk blinked very rapidly the minute he looked up and saw Blair. He looked trapped, desperate panic splashing in his eyes. "His car blew a tire," Blair said, ignoring the clerk's expression. "It's just down the road," he pointed with his thumb behind his back. "Fix it," he said shortly, and the clerk blinked in slight relief. "Give him the keys, Sam," Blair said, and Sam handed the keys to the clerk. "Everything better be there when we come back to pick it up," Blair's attention switched to the clerk once again. "If anything will be missing, you are going to be sorry," he nodded slightly. The clerk just shook his head violently, as if saying that he'd rather cut off his arm than dare stealing something from Sam's car. "How long will it take?" Blair asked almost lazily. "An hour at the most..." the clerk said, stuttering. "An hour?" Blair frowned. "It will take you an *hour *to fix one tire?" "The... The tow truck is not here," the clerk muttered, pulling his head into his shoulders. "It'll be here shortly though..." "Fine," Blair rolled his eyes. "We'll be back in an hour then. Come on," he glanced at Sam who was rather amused by that point, and walked towards the door of the store. Sam followed him silently, throwing one last look at the terrified clerk. "There is a coffee shop a block from here," Blair said when they walked outside. "It's open late; let's go." "You don't have to wait with me," Sam said uncomfortably. "I could just stay here until they get my car... It's okay..." "It's all good," Blair shrugged. "I have nothing to do... Plus," he grinned suddenly. "I get sick pleasure from harassing Harald," he glanced towards the store, and Sam immediately knew that Harald was the clerk's name. He grinned as well and followed the man, feeling more comfortable than he did a minute ago. "He seemed to be terrified of you," Sam said several minutes later, walking next to Blair whose hands were shoved into his pockets. "Yeah," Blair hemmed. "I come here often; he knows me... He..." the man coughed. "He managed to piss me off once, and before I could get myself under control, I kinda..." he coughed again. "I gave him some burns," he nodded with slight embarrassment. "Nothing too serious but now he craps his pants every time he sees me." Sam laughed at that. "What did he do to piss you off?" he asked; he was genuinely curious. "Was trying to tell me that I owe something to the store," Blair sighed and pushed open the door of the small coffee shop when they finally got there. "Later, the dipshit realized that he mixed me up with someone else... When I tried telling him that, he wouldn't listen. I never do the whole `borrowing' thing; I hate it. But as I said, that dumbass wouldn't listen..." he shrugged. "One thing led to another and..." he sighed. "Yeah," he finished with a small nod. Sam laughed again. They got their drinks and sat down at one of the small tables. "How old are you?" Blair asked suddenly, and Sam glanced at him through a wave of his hair that decided to fall onto his face. "Twenty-two," he said softly. "You don't look twenty-two," Blair said and drank his coffee. "You look eighteen at the most." "Yeah," Sam nodded with a small smile. "I know. How old are you?" "Thirty-one," the older man said lazily. "Huh," Sam muttered. "You don't look thirty-one," he said with a crooked smile when Blair shot him a silent question. "I would give you twenty-seven at the most..." "Yeah," the other man grinned. "I know," he nodded energetically, and Sam grinned as well. He was about to say something else, when his phone rang. "Sorry about that..." Sam muttered and pulled the phone out of his pocket, registering Blair's slight hand wave in the `it's okay' gesture. "Hello..." he said carefully. "Kid," the phone sighed. "Are you coming home tonight?" Sam looked at his watch. 11:25. "It's not after midnight," he said with reproach. "Are you or are you not?" Desmond said rather impatiently. "Yes," Sam said mildly. "I am coming home. You don't have to wait for me, you know... I have keys." "Yeah," Desmond snorted. "Tell that to Rayhe... What time are you gonna be here?" "Umm..." Sam thought about it for a minute. "In less than an hour," he said finally, and Desmond just sighed. "I have a perfectly good explanation," Sam said quickly. "I am sure you do," Desmond sighed again. "See you in an hour, kid," and he hung up. "Parents?" Blair asked when Sam snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket. "No," Sam finished his coffee. "Friends, really... We live together," he glanced at Blair again. "It's a long story," he smiled weakly. "I see," the other man nodded and finished his coffee as well. "How do I look?" Sam asked suddenly, and Blair blinked. "Pretty," he said seriously. "And your hair is fine," he added in a second, and Sam rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant..." he said with short laughter. "Do I have any bruises on my face? I really don't want to tell my friends about this whole thing... They will get pissed..." "At you?" Blair frowned. "No," Sam immediately shook his head. "At..." he shuddered involuntary. "Them," he finished in a harsher voice. "They will start looking for all three of them, and..." he shook his head. "I really don't want to tell them," he finished with a firm nod. "You look fine," Blair nodded without joking this time. "Hair is messed up but that's fixable... You don't have any bruises, your face looks good." "I thought you said that my hair looks fine," Sam said with fake reproach. "I did," the other man nodded as seriously as before, and Sam laughed again. "So you control the Fire, huh?" he asked after a few minutes. "No," Blair answered with serene expression. "I control the Water." "Huh?" Sam frowned slightly. "I control Water," the older man nodded. "When it comes out, however, it looks like Fire. It's easy to make such a mistake..." Sam rolled his eyes. "Sorry for stating the obvious," he said, and Blair laughed. "Yes," he said. "I control Fire..." He fell silent for several minutes, and finally threw a quick glance at Sam. "I am the Fire Guardian," he said softly, and Sam forgot how to blink. "Is this another joke?" he said finally, very slowly. "No," Blair shook his head. "Not a joke." "Holy shit..." Sam muttered. "You are a Guardian?!" "Uh huh," the older man nodded. "You looked freaked out," he noted carefully. "No..." Sam slowly shook his head. "I am not freaked out, it's just..." he finally blinked. "You are a Guardian," he said. "Guardians are like..." he struggled with the word-choice for several seconds. "They are like some sort of legendary creatures, you know? And you are..." he looked for the right word again. "You are... Normal," he shrugged finally, and Blair snorted. "Normal," he repeated in a low voice. "Well, yeah... Buying beer, burning random clerks..." here Blair laughed louder than before. "Knowing about air fresheners..." Sam shrugged again. "Normal," he finished with a firm nod. "Guardians are not legendary creatures," Blair sighed. "We do have a hell of an attitude," he said thoughtfully. "But other than that, we are not much different from anyone else. Do you have any abilities?" "Not really," Sam said somewhat uncomfortably. "I can breathe under water, that's all..." "That's handy!" Blair nodded, his face somewhat impressed. Sam shrugged. "I guess," he said. "Except, I don't really care about water or swimming... So it's pretty much useless." "Nothing is useless," Blair said seriously. "Oh, hey, turn your head to the right a bit..." Sam did that. "You've got something here..." the other man muttered and reached out to Sam's face across the table. He rubbed his fingers on the side of the younger man's cheekbone, and Sam tried to figure out why in the world his heart decided to double its rate the minute he felt Blair's touch. "There," Blair nodded after a minute. "All gone... Was some sort of dirt or something..." "Umm..." Sam swallowed hard, cursing his fair skin silently; he could feel himself blushing, and he knew that it was quite obvious. "Umm... I wonder if my car is ready," he said without looking at the other man. "Let's go see," Blair said as if he didn't notice anything. ...They got to the gas station at 11:45, and the entire way there, Sam had no idea what to do with his hands. Finally, he just shoved them into his pockets. He couldn't figure out his own reaction to this man. It was pretty obvious to him earlier that he really liked Eve; he enjoyed that kiss a hell of a lot. Yet, here he was, blushing like some fourteen-year-old girl just because Blair touched his face with his fingers. Could it be because Blair happened to be the Fire Guardian? Sam almost shook his head in frustration, but then decided against it, knowing that Blair will ask him what he was doing. To Sam's enormous relief, the car was ready by the time they got there. Sam quickly paid for the new tire, trying to stop his hands from shaking, and finally, he was done with the whole ordeal. "Good," Blair nodded when Sam stepped away from the register and they walked outside. "You can give me a ride home. I don't feel like walking again." "Err..." Sam said. "Sure..." "I live really close," Blair misinterpreted his uncomfortable shuffling, it seemed. "It'll take you ten minutes at the most." "It's not a problem," Sam said quickly. "I owe you a hell of a lot more than just a ride..." "Pfft!" the Fire Guardian said carelessly. "You don't owe me anything, Sam." "Believe me," Sam hemmed while fiddling with his car keys. "I do... If I had to go through that again..." He stopped talking immediately and swung the driver's door of the car so quickly that he almost hit his knee with it. "It's open," he called a little bit too loudly after popping the `unlock' switch on the door. "Got it," Blair seemed not to notice Sam's slip of the tongue, his expression as serene as before. He slid inside without even bothering with the seat belt, winced when the scent of the apples attacked him immediately, and rolled the window down. "Go to the right when you get out of the parking lot," he said when Sam started the car. Sam nodded silently and smoothly drove out into the road, obediently turning to the right. "Take a left on Morrison," Blair said several minutes later, and Sam nodded again without saying anything. He felt as if his throat became desert-dry all of a sudden, and he couldn't squeeze a single sound out of it. This was definitely not a simple awe-stricken reaction to the fact that Blair was the Fire Guardian, he thought desperately, clutching onto the steering wheel helplessly. "Take your second right," Blair said after Sam took the correct turn. "Third house on your left," he nodded a minute later. Sam blinked. "Huh," he said, feeling thankful for the fact that he could speak again. "You *do*live close!" "Yup," the older man said melancholically. "That's why I walked there tonight, didn't feel like driving." "I'm glad you did..." Sam muttered without looking at him. "Right," Blair smiled. "Well, thanks for the ride, Sam... I guess I'll see you around." "Yeah," Sam looked at him finally, grateful for the darkness, which was hiding his furiously blushing face and ears. "Night, Blair..." "Night, Sam," the Guardian smiled again and got out of the car, shutting the door after him. Sam watched him disappear in the house, took a deep shaky breath, and drove home. Right when he pulled into the driveway, there was a rather loud and shrill sound coming from somewhere on the floor. Sam frowned and threw the gear into `park.' He looked around, trying to figure out what the hell it was that kept making the sound. Finally, he cursed under his breath and flipped on the car lights. The sound shrieked again and Sam dove into the passenger's seat, staring at the floor intently. There was a small flashing object there, and the sound was coming from it. Sam frowned deeper and picked it up. Then he realized that he was holding a phone. He carefully flipped it open. "Hello...?" he said with the same puzzled frown. "Who is this?" the voice on the other end of the line demanded rather harshly. "Ummm..." He was really tempted to say the same thing to whomever it was he was talking to, but then realized that it was probably the owner of the phone. "It's Sam," he said instead, and the voice exhaled sharply and started laughing softly. "Oh," Sam heard finally. "It's Blair, Sam... I guess I dropped my phone in your car... Good thing though because I couldn't figure out where the hell I left it..." "Oh," Sam said somewhat dumbfoundedly. "Do you want me to bring it over?" "Not right now," Blair interrupted him immediately. "But if you could do it sometimes tomorrow, I would appreciate it!" "Sure," Sam nodded, not even trying to figure out why he felt so uplifted at the thought that he'll see Blair again tomorrow. "What time?" "Any time," the other man yawned on the phone. "Whenever." "Umm, noon?" Sam offered. "Sure," Blair agreed and yawned again. "Night, Sam..." "Night, Blair..." he muttered and snapped the phone shut. He stared at it for probably five full minutes, then sighed, turned off the lights, and got out of the car, making sure he leaves all the windows slightly open.