Title: Pride is Protest
Fandom: The Sentinel
Rating: Slash, All ages
Length: 1,600 words approx
Content notes: n/a
Author notes: Challenge - Rainbow.
Summary: Pride is protest. In Cascade, that means something.

“You don’t have to be there, Jim.”

Jim finished knotting his tie – plain blue – and added a tie clip to keep it in place. “It’s fine, Chief. I’m going to be at the courthouse anyway.” He picked up his gun and slid it into the holster.

Blair was at the mirror, teasing his usually wild curls into something even wilder. “I know, man. That’s why I thought…you won’t have time.”

Jim studied his young partner. Blair wore a pair of tight leather pants and – right now, at least – nothing else. It looked good on him, but Jim wondered why he wasn’t dressed yet. Did he not want Jim to see what he would be wearing?

Jim stepped up to the mirror, getting in Blair’s way for a moment. “Do you not want me there, Chief?” he asked.

Blair hesitated, then met Jim’s eyes. “It’s not exactly legal. And you’re a cop.”

Jim laughed. “No, it’s not technically legal, but you’re not breaking the law. And even if you were…for this, I wouldn’t care.”

Blair smiled, gratitude lighting up his face. “That’s awesome. But it’s a protest. I know that’s not your thing.”

It was a protest. It would be noisy and colourful and hell on Jim’s senses. Even so.

“I’m gonna be there, Sandburg. Andy is my friend, too.” He picked up a blazer and slipped it on, covering the gun, then checked himself in the mirror quickly. “Presentable?”

Blair squinted at him. “You look trustworthy,” he said judiciously.

“Good. I’m supposed to be called to testify at eleven. Even if they’re running late, I should be done by two. That’s when you start, right?”

Blair nodded, going back to primping his hair. “Right on the courthouse steps,” he agreed. “But if you’re gonna come, Jim, there’s two things I need you to do.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re a cop. It means something for you to support this. So, wear your badge, let everyone see it.”

Jim’s eyebrows shot up. He had expected the opposite. But that was easy enough. He could clip his shield to his belt and leave the blazer open. “Sure. No problem. What else?”

“I know this isn’t your thing, man, but it’s important today.” Blair told Jim what he wanted.

Jim smiled. “Chief, that will be my pleasure.” He glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you there.” He kissed Blair quickly on his lips.

Blair gave him a nervous grin. “Good luck.”

After going through security at the courthouse, Jim checked in with the assistant district attorney and waited patiently for his turn. They were running late, cross-examination on an earlier witness having run very long. He could hear the crowd beginning to gather outside: loud horns and shouting, but also music and laughter. It was a protest, but it was also a celebration. For a moment he closed his eyes and directed his senses out there, seeking Blair’s voice. But there was too much to sort through and he didn’t have the time.

Finally, the clerk called his name. “Detective Ellison.”

Jim stood, straightened his clothing, and strode confidently into the court.

The rest was routine. He took the oath, gave his name and credentials, told his story. The DA asked him for a few more details. Jim provided them. She declared, “No further questions,” and the defence attorney rose.

He had only one question: wasn’t it possible that his client had been there for a legitimate purpose?

Jim paused before answering. “Your client was carrying a crowbar and lock picks and had a Charles Bronson rubber mask stuffed into his pocket. It wasn’t Halloween. What legitimate purpose?”

There were a few more questions, but that ended the matter, as far as Jim was concerned. After the usual formalities, he was excused.

Remembering his promise to Blair, Jim clipped his shield to his belt. Outside, the party was in full swing, and he stopped in the ornate foyer for a few moments, taking some deep breaths and dialling back his senses as much as he dared. He could handle this.

He heard someone shout Blair’s name and Blair calling back, apparently telling everyone where to stand. Jim smiled to himself. It sounded like everyone was having fun, and that was good. Andy deserved this.

Andy was a doctoral candidate in organic chemistry at Rainier, which was how Blair knew her. Jim met her because she also helped to run a domestic violence shelter and had been a key witness in a nasty case the previous year when DV turned to murder. Jim got the guy, but that didn’t bring his victim back. They discovered they had a mutual friend during the investigation and that led to some socialising. Jim had few female friends outside the PD, and he valued Andy.

He located Blair almost the instant he stepped out into the sun. Surrounded by at least fifty rainbow flags, Blair stood on a temporary platform at the top of the courthouse steps. He wore those tight, leather pants with heavy biker boots. His hair was practically an Afro, and someone had spray-painted streaks of colour into it. His arms were bare, his back and chest covered with a black shirt. He turned a little as Jim watched and he saw the flash of white at Blair’s neck. Jim chuckled to himself. He was wearing a priest’s collar.

Jim made a bee-line for the platform. The crowd was a riot of colour: women in garish, fluorescent colours, men in fetish-gear or similarly flamboyant clothing. Several drag queens in huge wigs towered over the others, high, platform heels giving them extra height.

One queen with bright green hair and bold red lipstick moved to block Jim’s way. He (she?) carried a bucket half-filled with badges of all sizes. “We don’t want trouble.”

Jim raised both hands. “No trouble. I’m with him.” He pointed toward Blair, who spotted him and waved.

The queen smiled. “Good for you, babe.” Before Jim could protest, a giant badge had been stuck to his blazer: a pride flag with the words Love Is Love in bright pink.

“Thanks,” Jim said, and headed past the queen.

It was just past two o’clock when he reached the platform, and Blair told him where to stand.

“Hold this,” he instructed, giving Jim one of the big flags on a long pole.

“Anything for Andy,” Jim answered.

That was when he saw her.

Andy wore a tuxedo in white velvet with a satin collar, her shirt studded with rhinestones. Her close-cropped hair was shiny with some kind of hair product. At her side, Simone had chosen a more traditional wedding gown with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flared outwards. She wore no veil, though, her hair loose around her shoulders. They climbed the steps slowly, side by side.

The crowd cheered and shouted.

As they reached the platform, Blair held up his hands and waited for quiet.

There were no speeches. The act spoke for itself.

Someday, couples like Andy and Simone would be able to marry legally. Jim wasn’t sure if it would happen in his lifetime, but he was confident the day would come. Until then, the gay community in Cascade did this at the end of Pride month every year: they staged their weddings out here, on the steps of the courthouse, as loudly and as publicly as they could. This year, Blair was officiating for his friend.

There was a television crew filming the event. Jim watched them warily, suddenly aware that he, too, was being filmed. There would be a few sharp eyes picking him out of the news footage later, and he might have some difficult questions to answer. But maybe not.

The women spoke their vows to each other with a microphone broadcasting every word. When Blair told them to kiss, Andy literally swept her bride off her feet and the crowd went wild.

Blair moved to Jim’s side, making room for the next wedding. He was grinning, happy, proud, high on the cheers all around them and Jim loved to see it. He couldn’t help but return that smile, and he offered his hand to Blair. Blair took it and they watched, hand in hand, as the next couple – two men – began their slow walk up to the platform to take their vows.

When they kissed, Jim turned to Blair. “There’s a news crew over there. National.”

Blair grinned. “Isn’t it great?”

“Yes it is. I’m so proud of you for doing this.”

The grin got wider. “Right back atcha.”

“I made a promise earlier. You still want it? On national news?” It probably wouldn’t make the broadcast, which was more likely to focus on the couples, but still, Jim thought he should be clear about this.

Blair grin turned mischievous. “Oh, yeah!” he declared.

Jim pulled Blair into his arms and kissed him. And kissed him. And slid his free hand down to those pert buttocks to pull him closer as they kissed. That was what Blair wanted. Just once, for this to be seen in public. Their relationship wasn’t a secret, but Jim preferred to keep the displays of affection – or outright lust – private. Not today. Today was Pride and protest. He had nothing to hide.

Only when he felt Blair’s cock harden between their bodies did Jim let him go, breaking the kiss. Blair’s look had turned from lighthearted joy to smouldering. Gorgeous.

“Wow,” Blair said.

Jim grinned.

“Maybe next year, we should do this,” Blair suggested.

Jim shook his head regretfully. “When I marry you, I want it to be real. Legal.”

Blair’s eyes widened. “When?” he repeated. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do. What, you want me on one knee?” Jim shoved the rainbow flag he still held at the nearest person and dropped down, still smiling. “The day we can do this for real, Blair. Can we?”

He didn’t have to wait long for Blair’s answer.