I'll be Home for Christmas
by LilyK

-----------------------------------------------

Jim Ellison was whistling happily when he punched the elevator button for the third floor at 852 Prospect. As the car rose, he changed his tune from "Jingle Bells" to "Frosty the Snowman". The elevator doors opened and he walked briskly to the front door of the loft. His keys jingled merrily when he tossed them once up into the air before deftly catching them. He picked the appropriate key and opened the door.

Placing the keys into their basket on the small table directly inside the door, Jim glanced around his home. He smiled and corrected himself, his and Blair's home. Grinning once again, he placed the small, shiny green bag on the kitchen counter, took off his jacket, hung it on a hook and furrowed his brow.

Blair's coat wasn't in its place on the coat rack. Turning and making a quick scan, Jim then realized that Blair wasn't in the loft at all. Strange, because tonight was Blair's turn to cook and he should have been home hours ago. He glanced over at the fridge for a note and that's when he saw it -- a small green Norfolk pine tree in a brightly colored red and green ceramic pot. It sat on the kitchen island, looking festive. Small colored ornaments decorated its fragile branches and a tiny silver star tipped sideways from the topmost branch. In front of the decorated tree sat a very nicely wrapped gift, small and oblong. The silver and gold paper shimmered in the light and the red curly ribbon that spilled over it added a merry touch.

Jim gave the tree and present a cursory glance because something else caught his attention -- a business-size white envelope with his name scrawled across the front in red ink. Puzzled, Jim picked up the envelope and carried it into the living room. His senses tingled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A feeling of dread crawled up his back and he sat heavily on the sofa.

Tapping the letter against his knee, he looked around the loft. Truly looked, and didn't like what he saw -- or didn't see. Blair's stuff, his junk, was gone. No more Mayan pots on the bookcase. No more of his books, either. Jim rose and fingered the stack of CDs neatly resting in their holder. None of Blair's CDs were present, and his collection of Navajo fetishes was also gone from their place on the bookcase.

Shoving the letter into his back pocket, Jim walked quickly down the hall to Blair's room and pushed the door open. The room was immaculate. The bed was made. The floors gleamed. The dresser was dusted. The closet was empty, as were the dresser drawers and the small set of shelves attached to the wall next to the bed. Jim dazedly walked over to the bed and sat down. Blair was gone.

Jim sat very still for many long minutes while his mind raced. Why had Blair left him? He thought about the past six months. Blair accepted Simon's offer of the academy. He had gotten his shield and after a thirty-day stint with Traffic, was allowed to take his place at Jim's side. His official partner. Jim had been so proud. He still was.

Jim carefully reviewed their current relationship. These past six months had been good. Actually, now that Jim thought about it, they had been more than good -- they had been great. He and Blair worked well together. He had stifled his protective nature for his Guide and managed to let Blair do what he had to in order to feel comfortable with his new position. After the initial settling into their 'new' partnership, they got along better than ever. They spent almost all of their free time together even though they worked together every day. They enjoyed each other's company and as hard as Jim tried, he couldn't think of anything in the last months that would have led Blair to think that he should leave. In fact, just the opposite. They seemed to have found their rightful places in each other's lives and it worked. At least, Jim thought it was working.

Jim sighed. How could he be so wrong? He lay back on the bed and then he remembered the envelope. Rolling to his side, he pulled out the now wrinkled letter and stared at it. He bit his lip, feeling like a fool. He thought Blair liked him, and then this happens. With a deep sigh, he slipped the flap open and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

Opening the letter, Jim almost smiled. Blair had obviously made it on his own printer. Small Christmas and Hanukkah decorations made a frame around the green text. Jim was instantly angry. How could Blair decorate a letter that Jim was sure told him to go to hell? He crumbled the letter in his fist, feeling a moment of triumph at its destruction. He wouldn't let Blair get away with his abandonment. He sat up and tossed the wad of paper across the room where it skittered to a halt against the baseboard.

Jim rose and walked to the door, but the white ball of paper caught his eye. "Damn you, Chief," he growled aloud, picking up the letter and opening it, smoothing out the wrinkles. Steeling himself, he forced himself to read the words.

Dear Jim:

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Feliz Navidad! Whatever! LOL!

Jim grimaced. How could he sound so -- cheerful? Returning to the note, Jim made himself read on.

By now you've noticed something is different about the loft. For Christmas (or insert appropriate holiday), I've given you the best gift I could think of -- your privacy. I can just see the cartwheels you're turning now! Peace and quiet at last! There are a few things I'd like to say and I knew if I said them in person, I'd probably talk way too much (something you definitely don't need!), so here goes.

You've been the best friend a guy could ask for, Jim. You've given me a home and made me feel like I was an equal to you. You're the best partner I could ever ask for, too. You've saved my life so many times that I couldn't even begin to thank you. You're caring and compassionate and brave and well, just plain wonderful. Don't get all prickly on me. You are, whether you like it or not.

A warm flush crept up Jim's body at the praise, and while he was very pleased, it made his confusion deepen at Blair's apparent abandonment of their lives.

Anyway, on my thirtieth birthday, Naomi gave me the money that my grandmother left me. The estate was settled last month and I wanted to do something special for you with it. After I paid off the last of my school loans, that is. <BEG>

I thought and thought and decided the thing that you needed (and probably wanted!) most was your own place back. You haven't had your place to yourself for four plus years. Four years! Man, time sure does fly, doesn't it? So I've rented a nice little condo down at the marina. Two bedrooms, two baths, kitchen, the usual, you know? Oh, and a garage! No more wet head running for the car! Cool, huh?

Jim snorted. "Yeah, very cool, Sandburg," he muttered.

My Christmas gift to you is to get out of your hair and let you have the nice quiet holiday you haven't had for years with me underfoot. The gift on the counter is just a little something I wanted to give you as a token of our friendship and with my thanks. Oh, and I've deposited all the money for the back rent into your savings account. I'd say we're even now, but Jim, we'll never be even, because you've done so much for me, it isn't possible for me to ever repay you. All I have is this bit of money and my deepest thanks and affection, so they're yours.

I'm rambling, I think, so let me say this -- I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Have a great Christmas. I happen to know that Simon's given you the day off. I was there, remember? Rest. Relax. Dinner's in the fridge. There's enough for a couple of days so you can just nuke and eat. <g> Beer too, and a bottle of wine. That Washington red you like so much.

Oh, I almost forget. My new address is 854 Bluecrest Drive, #110. The phone number is 555-4735. Call whenever. I have an extra bedroom now so if you ever need to, you can always come and stay in my spare room. <bg>

See you at work on Friday!

Love,

Blair

With his mouth open in utter surprise, Jim walked into the living room and sat on the sofa in a daze. Blair had left because he loved Jim? Because he thought Jim deserved peace and quiet? Because he wanted to share the little bit of material goods he owned?

"You fucking idiot," Jim said aloud. "God, Chief. I love you, too! You selfless, kind, caring ass!"

Blair loved him. Jim thought about this for a good long while. Loved him how? Like a good friend? Like a big brother? Like what? He mulled this revelation over for a bit more. What kind of relationship did he and Blair have? He made a list in his mind.

They enjoyed each other's company. Check. They liked being together. Check. They annoyed the hell out of each other and had big blow-outs sometimes. Check. They always made up and their relationship was stronger for it. Check. They cooked together, cleaned together, did each other's laundry, borrowed each other's stuff. Check. Check. Check. Check. When Jim realized these facts, he groaned aloud.

"Good God, Ellison, you're married!" he said to the empty loft. Then he grinned because he liked the idea. "You're married to Blair. You're married to a man! How does that fit in your nice orderly life?"

Sitting up, Jim barked in laughter. Nice? Orderly? Ever since Hurricane Blair had whirled into his life, order was a dirty word. He had chaos and disaster in his home, he mused, but the alternative now was unthinkable. Looking around, Jim realized that this is what his life would be like without Blair. Quiet. Peaceful. Orderly. And boring.

Jumping to his feet, Jim grabbed the portable and dialed Blair's new number, hoping his partner was "home". Not the right home, but home, nonetheless.

"Hello."

"Hi, Chief."

"Jim! I see you got my note. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah, real cool. Say, would you come for dinner tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? It's Christmas Day, man. The idea was for you to have a quiet day without me talking your ear off." Blair's chuckle rang melodically in Jim's ear, making him grin.

"Sandburg, this is a formal invitation. Please come for Christmas dinner tomorrow at my -- here at the loft."

Blair said hesitantly, "Are you sure? I'll see you Friday at work."

With a sigh and with an effort to hide his disappointment, Jim asked, "You're busy?"

"No. No, Jim. I'm not busy." Pausing before he answered, Blair said, "Okay, dinner. Tomorrow. Four okay?"

"Perfect. See you then." Jim disconnected before Blair could change his mind. He started to formulate his plan. He needed a dinner that would seduce Blair back into his apartment and into his bed. With determination, Jim set out on his mission.

------------------------------------------------

Jim opened the front door. "For God's sake, Chief. You don't have to knock!"

Blair grinned, shrugging. "Sorry, man. It seemed -- appropriate. Since I don't live here any longer."

Rolling his eyes, Jim growled, "Get in here, Sandburg." He resisted the urge to throw his arms around his partner. instead, he allowed himself to drink in the sight of the man he knew he had grown to love.

"Okay!" Blair said, laughing. "I'm in. See?" Blair walked into the living room and held out his hands. "I'm in."

Jim scowled before he laughed. "Good. Sit down. Drink?"

"Yeah. Great."

"Give me your jacket."

"I remember where the coat rack is, Jim," Blair said, pulling off his jacket. "What I don't remember is ever seeing it decorated," he added, chuckling at the string of lights Jim had wrapped around the hooks. "Nice."

"Red wine okay?"

"Depends. If we're having the proper main course, red wine could be the appropriate choice."

"Chief!"

Laughing, Blair said, "Red's fine, Jim." He looked around, noticing the loft's changed appearance. "Hey, man. What gives? I've never seen you decorate before."

Jim carried two glasses of wine into the living room and handed one to Blair. "I felt -- festive."

"Cool. It looks great! I love the rope lights on the banister and loft railing. Very nice," Blair said, admiring the tiny white lights that gave off a soft glow.

"Sit, Chief." Jim indicated the place he had carefully arranged in front of the fireplace. The fire burned merrily, popping and crackling. Large pillows made sitting comfortable. A couple of small trays sat within reach, empty now, but soon they would be filled with food.

"I love a fire!" At Jim's wave, Blair sat down on the floor and crossed his legs. "I'm going to miss it."

"How about something to eat?"

"I could eat. What are we having?"

"I have a nice mix of tidbits. Some of this and that. I think you'll enjoy the variety."

Blair raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Sounds good. May I help?"

"No. You sit and enjoy the fire. Everything's done. I'll just get the food."

"If you're sure... Thanks, Jim."

With a smile, Jim left Blair to prepare the platter with the food he had carefully chosen the day before. On one platter, he arranged smoked oysters with horseradish dip, steamed asparagus rolled in prosciutto, mushroom caps stuffed with herbed breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese, and several kinds of cheese cubes: tangy Swiss, creamy Gouda and sharp cheddar.

On the second plate, he had arranged a variety of sliced fruit: cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries, green grapes and mango, one of Blair's favorites. In a bowl in the center, he placed a little bowl with heated honey in which to dip the fruit. He deliberately left out any eating utensils.

Carrying the platters into the living room, Jim said, "I hope you don't mind, but I didn't make a big dinner. Just some finger foods."

"Whatever you have is fine, Jim, but you already know that. I love your cooking."

"Good." Jim knelt on the floor and passed one of the platters to Blair. "Set this down for me. I'll get napkins." Seeing Blair's empty glass, he asked, "More wine?"

"Please."

Jim refilled Blair's glass and his, and brought two cloth napkins. He sat down opposite Blair and smiled. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too, Jim. Thanks for asking me. Ah, Jim?"

"Yes?"

"How about a plate?"

"This is a finger food meal, Chief. Use those fingers. Besides, it saves on clean-up."

Blair laughed merrily, spreading his napkin on one leg. "Sounds like fun," he said mischievously, taking a mushroom and popping it into his mouth. "Ummm, great. Delicious," he added before trying an asparagus roll.

Jim watched, mouth dry, while Blair nibbled down the asparagus until the last bite disappeared. He licked his fingers, making tiny appreciative sounds. Jim felt his own body's temperature rise a degree. He took a quick sip of wine and ate several pieces of cheese.

Managing to tamp down his responses to Blair's innocent enjoyment of the food, Jim kept his eyes on his guest's face, but his sense of smell refused to cooperate. The fragrance of Blair's body wafted through his nose, bringing a familiar feeling that he had come to associate with his partner. His blood quickened. His senses sharpened. His breathing rose. Jim knew that Blair brought on these pleasant feelings but he had always discounted them as his Sentinel instincts responding to his Guide. Now Jim suddenly realized that it was much more. It was the man, Jim Ellison, responding to the person he loved, Blair Sandburg. He was in love -- and it felt damned good.

"What?" Blair asked.

"Huh?"

"Jim, you with me? You're staring at me like I've grown two heads or something." Blair unconsciously licked his fingers. "This fruit and honey is wonderful! What made you think of it?"

"Something I read."

"You're not eating."

"Sorry. I'm..." Jim's voice trailed away.

"Jim? You're acting really strange."

"I am?"

"Yeah, man. I mean, the loft is decorated for Christmas and Hanukkah. In four years, we never decorated. We barely celebrated other than to exchange a few gifts. Hell, we always worked! Now all of this." Blair waved a hand in the air. "I mean, I love it but why, Jim?"

"Really, Chief, it's nothing. I just wanted to spend some time with you."

"Jim, we spend every day together. The general idea was for you to have your peaceful, quiet home back. Not for me to invade it in the first twenty-four hours."

"But I don't want my peaceful, quiet home back!" Jim almost shouted before clamping his lips tightly together.

"What?" Blair asked, clearly puzzled. "But I thought... Geez, Jim." He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you angry?"

"No! Not at all. Listen, Chief. I know you didn't leave out of animosity or anything. I know you thought you were doing me a big favor, but..." Jim froze, afraid to say more, but he realized that now was the time. Say what he felt and the consequences be damned. "I don't want to hurt our friendship, Blair, but it's boring without you home!"

Blair's eyes met Jim's. "Really? Boring? So I'm a diversion, am I?"

"Yes. No. Hell, Chief." Jim stuttered for a few moments before he saw the playful look in Blair's eyes and the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You dickhead."

Blair shrugged, laughing. "Really, Jim. That's a nice thing to say, but I think it's for the best. Think about it! When was the last time you had a date? You spend all of your free time with me. How are you supposed to find a wife or a lover with me hanging around all the time?"

"But what about you? You haven't had a date in months! I'm cramping your style, too, apparently."

Blair smiled warmly. "I'm not looking for anybody."

"Why not?"

Blair shrugged. "My heart is engaged elsewhere."

"Oh," Jim said dejectedly, picking at a crumb on his shirt. "That's good, Chief. Best of luck with it."

"Jim, look at me." Waiting patiently until Jim raised his head and looked into his eyes, Blair then added, "I'm going to go out on a limb here, Jim, and tell you a huge secret. It's a real whopper."

"You want to tell me who you're -- in love with?" Jim asked tersely.

"Yeah, Jim. I do. I trust you with my heart. I want you to know."

Jim sighed and nodded. He owed Blair that much. Blair's faith in him was boundless and he would do nothing to hurt the man he loved. "I'm listening," he said quietly, steeling himself for the news.

Blair touched the back of Jim's hand with the tips of his fingers. "I'm in love with a pig-headed, grouchy, anal-retentive neat freak. You might know him. He shares the same last name as you."

Jim's eyes grew wide and he had trouble swallowing. He cleared his throat and said, "You're in love with Stephen?"

"Did I mention he's an asshole?" Blair asked, laughing deeply.

"Once or twice." Jim laughed along with his partner.

Blair rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm going to kill you." He took one of the strawberries from the plate and dipped the tip into the honey. Rising to his knees, he leaned over and held out the piece of fruit to Jim, who leaned in slightly and with his eyes glued to Blair's, he wrapped his lips around the fruit and the tips of Blair's fingers. He ran his tongue over the warm skin before taking the tidbit and chewing the delicious morsel.

"Jim!" Blair said, sweat breaking out on his forehead at the wet touch of Jim's tongue on his fingertips.

Licking his lips, Jim smiled. "Will you come home?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"You belong here -- with me."

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Sorry about the moving and stuff. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know. Forget it. As long as you'll come home."

"When?"

"Right now."

"But the lease...?"

"We'll buy it out if we have to."

"You're serious."

"Hell, yes."

"Then consider me home."

Jim felt his eyes mist over. He ducked his head for a second before he cleared his throat and said, "I bought you a Christmas gift."

Smiling, Blair nodded. "I see you didn't open the one I left for you. You want to do that now?"

"Sure. I'll get them."

"No, let me. I gather the one next to the one I left for you is for me?

"Good deduction, Einstein."

"I am a detective, Ellison," Blair growled good-naturedly while he fetched the two small packages. "They're identical in size and weight," Blair said as he carried the gifts back to Jim's side. Handing Jim the one from him, Blair shook his gift. "Wonder what it is?"

"Open it and find out."

"Oh, good idea. I'd never have thought of that," Blair quipped, earning him a playful smack on the head from Jim.

"Smart mouth. God, Chief. I missed you!"

"Jim, I was gone one day."

"So?"

"Nothing," Blair said happily. "Let's see what this is."

Both men opened their gift. Blair pulled out the item from his box and Jim held up the item from his. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Jim, man. I thought you wanted this!"

"I thought you did!"

"But at the mall, you specifically said how much you loved it!"

"I do love it, but you said you loved it too. I bought it for you."

"I bought it for you."

"Chief, we are so married, it's not even funny." Jim said ruefully, holding the silver watch up to the firelight, watching it glint merrily in the fire's glow.

"Truer words were never spoken," Blair said, holding up a duplicate of the watch that Jim held in his hand. "I've never been married before."

"I have," Jim said with a grimace.

"Oh, right."

"This time it will be better. Trust me."

"Jim, from you, those are the two scariest words in the English language."

"Dick."

"Ass."

"What about Simon? The guys at work?"

"You've been here for what? Four years? Who cares? Besides, I'm sure everybody thinks we've already..." Jim made motions with his hands indicating the horizontal mambo.

"Love you," Blair said, laughing.

"Love you, too."

" Now how about a kiss?"

"A kiss? On the lips?" Jim feigned shock.

"No, man. On my hand. You want me to marry you, you'd better start courting me like you really mean it."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. I'm expecting roses and diamonds and a new car before you ever touch this body."

Jim grabbed his laughing partner and plastered his lips to his lover's inviting mouth. In moments, the courting was over and the honeymoon began, honey and all.

Happy Holidays!

The End

BACK to main story index