Oh My GOD II
Warnings: more innuendo and silliness bounce around like Blair on a
caffeine binge
“Oh, my
god!”
Blair’s jaw dropped open.
The figure crossed his arms
and viewed them with an air of sublime derision as if viewing motes of dust.
Blair felt the hackles rising on the back of his neck.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“I told you. I am Ares, the
God of War.” He took a leonine step forward. “And you…are… my…son.”
“I don’t think so.” The
Sentinel stepped between them.
Ares looked him up and down.
“Ah, a sentinel.” He dismissed him with a flick of his
hand.
Blair burrowed his head in
his hands. This couldn’t be really
happening. It didn’t make sense. Roman Gods? No, Ares
was the Greek version of Mars. Greek gods, then. He
had to be dreaming. That was right. This was a dream. Maybe if he went back to
bed and it would all be over.
“A guide!” Ares said with the air of
contempt. “You’re a guide? I don’t believe it; I bet Naomi brought you up as a
pacifist. That woman.”
“Hey!” Blair darted forward,
to be brought up against the Sentinel’s steel-like arm, before he could enter
the interloper’s personal space. “That’s my mom you’re talking about!”
“And very nice she is too.”
Ares smiled toothily.
Blair sucked in a shocked
breath, momentarily speechless, then. “You, bastard…”
“Blair!” Jim snapped, and
tucked him behind his back, out of view of the man.
“Ptfft,”
Blair spluttered.
“Well, I’m glad to see that
there is some passion. Passion… it runs in the family.”
“Jim, let me go,” he
demanded, struggling to put the man in his place.
“Look,” Jim addressed the
god. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not welcome. I don’t know
how you did that light and smoke trick and appeared, but if you don’t leave
now, I’m going to throw you out.”
Ares threw his head back and
laughed uproariously.
“Okay!” Jim launched himself
at the man.
Ares clicked his fingers. A
dazzling flash of light engulfed the Sentinel. Blinded, Blair wiped futilely at
tearing eyes.
“Jim? Jim? Are you all
right?” Blinking furiously he managed to clear his vision.
At Ares’ feet sat a sat a
tiny black cub, mewling.
“That wasn’t supposed to
happen,” the god said sounding disgruntled. “You were supposed to turn into a
tadpole.”
Blair darted forward and
plucked the kit from Ares’ feet.
Okay, if this was a dream it
was really realistic.
The cub snarled and spat at
Ares.
“Turn him back!” Blair
demanded.
“Put him down and come with
me.” The man held out his hand. “It’s time that you were introduced to your
legacy.”
“Like Hell I will,” Blair
snarled back at him. “Who do you think you are? Just coming in here and…”
“What did I do to deserve
this? Always half mortals are intent on making my life a misery. If it’s not Xena it’s someone else (and don’t even begin harping on
about Hercules) trying to…thwart… me.”
Ares glared balefully at
him. Blair glowered back at the god.
“Fact,
kid.
You’re a demi-god. You’ve come into your inheritance
as of today. You learn to use it or you become a danger to everyone around
you.”
Ares looked perplexed for a
moment.
“What?” Blair asked
suspiciously.
“Nothing…” Distracted Ares
paced over to the balcony windows. "I don't believe that I said that --
it's so… conscientious."
The cub mewled
a question, Blair shrugged. Ares crossed his arms and tucked his head down
against his chest, evidently deep in thought.
Blair slowly inched towards
his bedroom door.
Okay, if this wasn’t a dream
it was a toss up to whether or not he was insane or not. But if he was
questioning whether or not he was insane he couldn’t be insane. That was the
dogma about insanity wasn’t it? If you questioned it, you had to be sane. So Naomi had … he wasn’t going to go there.
His father was the god Ares. Fine. Ares had just
turned Jim into a panther cub.
“Phew,” Blair exhaled. If
Ares was a god, didn’t that make him a half god? Or a demi-god
as Ares had just said. Shit.
“You are my son,” Ares
intoned, apparently he’d come to a conclusion from his big think. “The only one to survive to majority. You’re coming with
me.”
“No way!”
Blair darted into his room
and out down the fire escape.
~*~
Could you run away from a
god? Blair was about to find out. If only he knew where Naomi was; she would be
able to help him. Evidently she had some kind of influence otherwise a *God*
wouldn’t have agreed to the bargain to leave him alone for thirty years.
Who could help?
Simon.
Poor Simon – he had enough
trouble coping with the sentinel thing, how was he going to handle godhood?
Blair flagged down a taxi
and jumped in the back. “Central Precinct – now!”
The little stocky taxi
driver turned in his seat. “You got problems, mate?”
“Yeah!” Blair peered out of the
side windows. He couldn’t see Ares anywhere. “Please, just get me to the
precinct.”
The taxi driver shrugged,
brushed his blond curly hair out of his eyes and peeled away from the sidewalk
with tires screaming. “I just love driving. I’m so glad that they invented
cars.”
‘Is everyone doing drugs today?’ Blair sagged back into car seat. The panther cub
nuzzled his chest and then settled on his lap.
Maybe Ares would find the
twentieth century as confusing as everyone else?
~*~
Blair ran up the stairs to
the seventh floor. There was no way that he was going to tempt fate and chance
the elevator. He burst into the bullpen. Heads lifted as he darted in between
the desks, unerringly heading to Captain Simon Banks’ office.
“Hey, Hairboy. What ya got?”
“Nothing.” Blair rushed past and burst
into Simon’s office without knocking.
“Sandburg! What have I told
you?”
“Not today, Simon. Not
today.” He plopped the cub on the desk. It mewled piteously. “It’s okay, Jim. I’ll figure something out.”
“What the hell’s that?”
“Well… uhm…”
Blair scratched his head. “It’s Jim.”
“Jim?” the Captain said
levelly. “Jim Ellison?”
“Yes.” Blair grimaced a smile. “Ares-the-Greek-God-of-War-turned-him-into-a-jaguar-cub,”
he said in a rush.
“Ares the Greek God of War
turned Jim Ellison into a jaguar cub?” Simon leaned back in his comfortable
leather seat and pulled out a cigar. “I’m not even biting this one.”
“It’s true,” Blair shrieked.
“What do you take me for?
It’s hard enough thinking a Northern European White Anglo Saxon Protestant has
a Peruvian Native Spirit Guide now you’re telling me that the Greek God of War
has turned him into a representation of said spirit guide.”
“Why can’t Jim have a
Peruvian Spirit Guide? He rediscovered his sentinel abilities in the jungle.
Maybe his mother was of Olmec descent several
generations back? But that’s beside the point. My…” Blair paced to the end of
the desk, made an abrupt about face, and then paced back. “My father turned him into a jaguar.”
“Your
father?
Why? You do know that the authorities are going to go postal on your ass when
they find out that you're running around Cascade with an endangered animal. Oh,
what am I saying, I am the authority.”
“Simon,” Blair wailed. “I
know it’s hard to believe, but this is Jim. I didn’t steal a cub from the city
zoo.”
Simon fired up his cigar and
stared, deliberately, out of the window, patently ignoring them.
“Jim, don’t do that.”
The cub was huffing and
puffing at the end of the cigar, trying to put out glowing end. He sneezed
suddenly and fell back on his rump.
“Your damn cat’s allergic to
my cigars.” Simon wiped cat sneeze off his face.
“You know Jim doesn’t like
your cigars.”
Jim gleefully shredded his
ink blotter. Blair scooped the kitten up before Simon could turn it into a
furry muff.
“I know that you think I’m
insane. But can you please put an APB out on Naomi. She has some -- I really
hope -- all of the answers to this… er… predicament.
Or at least someway to maybe get Jim turned back.”
“Sweetie.” Naomi sailed into Simon’s
office riding a wave of sage. “Hello, Simon.”
“Great, just what I need,”
Simon grumbled.
“Mom, thank god.” Blair was
caught between screaming or hugging her.
“Interesting
choice of words?” She smiled happily.
Incensed, Blair began to
splutter, unable to form the words.
“Ares?” Naomi said helpfully.
Blair thrust out the cub at
arms length.
Naomi cocked her head to the
side. “It’s a boy cub.”
Blair blushed and snatched
the kit back against his chest.
“I want to know what
happened.”
“Surely you remember,
darling. I told you about the bird and the bees when you were nine.” Blair
darted a horrified glance at the Captain. He was ignoring them concentrating on
the basic consumables for the department – they got through an obscene amount
of coffee.
“No, I meant Ares.”
“Well, even though he’s a
god, the mechanics are the same. It doesn’t mean that he’s spectacularly…”
“Why are you doing this to
me?” Blair interrupted.
“I don’t understand.”
“Why are you being
deliberately dense?”
“You don’t mind if we use
your office, do you, Simon?”
The Captain waved regally at
the couch between the office doors. “Help yourself, I’m ignoring you.”
Blair let his mother
shepherd him to the couch. “I don’t understand, Mom. Ares’ is my father?”
“Yes, Sweetie, he’s your
father.”
“He’s a god.”
“He’s also a man,” Naomi
licked her lips.
Blair breathed in harshly,
the breath whistling through his teeth. “How?”
“I met him at rally. He was
trying to foment the Vietnam War. I distracted him for a little while. A couple
of months, actually,” Naomi said proudly.
“And you found out?” Blair
waved vaguely at her stomach.
“Yes, that
I was going to be a mother.”
“And how did Ares handle
it?”
Naomi looked into the middle
distance. “He had some vague ideas about sequestering me in a
“You managed to hide from a
god?”
Simon snorted and then
buried his head back in his paperwork.
“Oh, he followed. But I
challenged him to a game of chance and I got you for thirty years.”
“A card
game?”
Blair blurted.
“No, I won you in a game of
scissors, paper, stone.”
“What?”
“What can I say, he likes
pointy objects.” Naomi shrugged.
~*~