Just Another Valentine's Day

by LilyK

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Blair Sandburg stood outside the loft's front door and took in a decidedly shaky breath before slowly releasing it. He put his hand on the doorknob and plastered a smile on his face. Turning the knob, he opened the door and walked in. As he glanced around, the smile faded and he sighed.

The dining table was set with white china, red cloth napkins, shiny silverware, and ten tall tapers, five red and five white, each set into small glass holders, and all of which had burned down into small mounds of ugly, melted wax. Surprised at the elegance of the table, Blair stood confused for a long moment.

He knew he and Jim had plans for dinner together because Jim had asked him if he should cook tonight. Blair had said dinner would be good, but he didn't realize that Jim was going to go to all the trouble to decorate. After all, it was St. Valentine's Day evening, and Blair had assumed that Jim would be going out on a date. He had been surprised enough when Jim had said he would be staying in and felt like cooking, even though it was Blair's week to perform that particular chore. Not thinking anything of it at first, Blair agreed to be home by seven. Now, here it was almost nine and he was just getting in, two hours late, and more than angry at himself over the reason for his tardiness.

The entire loft smelled delicious, making Blair wince. He bit his lower lip and sighed again when he noticed that the fire in the hearth had burned down to smoldering ash. Blair forced his uncooperative legs to walk into the living room and he stood uncomfortably at the end of the sofa. He saw Jim sitting very still, his entire body looking as if it were carved out of granite. Blair knew that Jim had, of course, heard him exit the elevator, walk down the hall, open the door and and enter the loft. When Jim didn't turn or acknowledge his partner's presence, Blair knew that whatever Jim was feeling right now was Blair's own fault. He shifted from one foot to the other, and waited for the ax to fall.

After many long minutes, Blair couldn't stand the silence. He cleared his throat. “Jim?” Blair called softly. “I'm really sor...”

“Save it,” Jim said coldly, still not turning to look at his roommate. His entire body radiated hurt and anger.

“I want to explain,” Blair said. “I owe it to you.”

“You don't owe me a thing, except rent once a month.”

“Please, Jim.”

At Jim's cold shoulder, Blair walked around the sofa and fell to his knees in front of his friend. Slipping what he carried into his right hand, he started to reach out his left to touch Jim's knee, but the flash of anger in Jim's eyes stopped him cold.

Their eyes met and Blair said, “I'm sorry. It's all my fault.”

“I said forget it. No big deal.”

Jim said the words, but his twitching jaw muscle told Blair that he was deeply hurt.

“It is a big deal to me.”

“Yeah, right,” Jim said derisively.

“Please, Jim. This is hard for me, too.”

“All you had to do was call, Sandburg. You do know how to use a telephone? You do remember what manners are? I realize that it was just dinner like all the other meals we share, but tonight... Just forget it!” Jim started to rise, but Blair blocked his exit.

“I know. I know!” Blair's hands tightly clasped the item he was holding. He said pleadingly, “Please, Jim. Won't you let me explain? It's important!”

“You don't have to explain! I can see what happened.” Jim pointed to the basket of silk flowers that Blair held in his hands. “You had a better offer!”

“No! No, not at all!”

“Get out of my way!” Jim growled.

For a moment, Jim's hands rose and Blair thought Jim would physically push him away to get past, but when his hands fell back onto his lap, Blair closed his eyes in relief. Even though Jim turned his face away, Blair forged ahead.

“I didn't have a better offer. I didn't have any offer. I'm two hours late for our dinner together because I'm a such a damned coward!” At Jim's lack of response, Blair finally did move his hand to his partner's knee, and was relieved when it wasn't shoved away. “It's all my fault because I wouldn't say what I've been wanting to say for months now.”

Jim sat silently for many long moments before he asked, “Which is...?”

For the moment, Blair chose to ignore Jim's inquiry and put forth one of his own. “Jim, why did you go to all the trouble to set such a beautiful table? I thought it was just supper like we have most nights. I didn't know you had planned on a fancy dinner. Why, Jim?”

“I felt like it.”

“You felt like it.”

“Yeah, can't I do something -- nice for a friend if I feel like it?” Jim asked coolly before he looked directly into Blair's eyes. “Answer the question, Sandburg. What have you been trying to spit out and are too chicken to say? You're moving out? You've found the love of your life? You're dumping our partnership and the PD for something better?”

“That's mean, Jim. You know I'd never do that. I didn't get through the Academy and get my shield to dump our partnership! God, you have absolutely no trust in me, do you?” Blair rose and set the basket down on the coffee table. “You know, I think I made a big mistake.” He walked toward the door. “I'm going for some air.” With that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

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Jim remained very still for a long while. He heard his accusations echoing through the loft and he winced when he replayed the words over again in his head. Sighing deeply, he dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them and the first thing he saw was the basket of silk flowers. An envelope was sticking out through the side of the blossoms and he automatically reached out, plucking the blue item from its nest. He blinked and looked at the front of the envelope. He blinked again, and again. The word, short and simple, danced before his eyes. He focused several times, rubbed his eyes, and focused again. The letters stayed the same no matter how many times he glared at them.

JIM

With shaking fingers, he slipped open the flap and pulled out three or four sheets of light blue paper that perfectly matched the envelope. Scanning the pages quickly, the blue ink danced across the pages and his eyes once again refused to cooperate. The words that registered to his brain couldn't be what he was reading. He must be hallucinating or imposing his own desires on the paper. Jim rubbed his finger over the writing. He could feel the varying depths of the cursive and he finally admitted that he knew what the words said and who had written them.

Leaning back, Jim held the paper with both hands. Slowly and carefully, he read aloud.

Dear Jim,

You'd think I'd be better with words when it comes to the really big stuff. Hell, man, I can hardly shut up when it's not that important, and here I am, tongue-tied. I bet you'll get a big laugh out of that. Go ahead, laugh away, because I have a big chuckle to lay on you.

I'm using somebody else's words because although I can talk a mile a minute and write a hell of an anthropology paper and a damned fine police report, I'm not good with poetry. And please, don't cringe and toss this across the room because I used the word “poetry”. They're song lyrics, man. From a song you might recognize because you enjoy the oldies. I heard it yesterday on the radio and I thought, that's how I feel!

Jim shook his head and chuckled. “Get on with it, Sandburg. Geez.”

Good God, I'm rambling again! I can hear you saying, 'Get to it, Sandburg!'

Jim chuckled louder. “Close, Chief. You read me like a damned book. When did that happen?” Jim laughed aloud then, realizing Blair had been reading him like a book from day one. Returning to the papers, Jim read on.

Another night slowly closes in,
And I feel so lonely.
Touching heat freezing on my skin,
I pretend you still hold me.
I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep.
I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep over you.
I can't believe you're gone.
You were the first, you'll be the last.

Wherever you go, I'll be with you.
Whatever you want, I'll give it to you.
Whenever you need someone to lay your heart and head upon.
Remember: after the fire, after all the rain,
I will be the flame.
I will be the flame.

Watching shadows move across the wall,
I feel so frightened.
I wanna run to you, I wanna call,
But i've been hit by lightning.
Just can't stand up for fallin' apart.
Can't see through this veil across my heart, over you.
You'll always be the one.

Sappy, huh? Well, it fits how I feel almost to a 'T'. I know you haven't gone anywhere yet (although my butt might be going “somewhere” after you read this) and I know you haven't actually held me, but I've pretended that you have a hell of a lot of times -- like every day! And it doesn't count that you held me when I was unconscious from Golden, so don't even go there. You're my first, Jim. Yeah, I know. First what? First real, deep and abiding love of my life. And the last. Definitely!

Anyway, before this turns into a dissertation, that's why I'm late. I'm sitting in the coffee shop down the street from the loft and thinking, I am a big, fat, fucking coward. It took me five hours to get up the courage to come home and I still had to write it all down instead of telling you face to face. I'm going to give you the gift and run like hell. Hopefully, I won't have to run too far once you've read this, but I'm ready to accept the consequences of my actions.

Okay, enough already. I love you, Jim. The End.

Love, Blair

P.S. The silk flowers are for you. These won't make you sneeze! Flowers, how... usual. Oh, well...

“Blair!” Jim said softly. “I'm such an idiot! Why do you think I cooked the fancy dinner, Chief? The fire, the candles... I didn't talk to you either. Can two clueless bastards make a go of it? God, I hope so!”

With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, Jim rose and grabbed his cell phone. He punched Blair's cell number and listened to the ring -- once, twice, three times.

“Come on, Sandburg. Give me a break!” Jim muttered at the fourth ring.

“Hey, Jim.”

“Chief! Listen. We need to talk.”

“Oh?”

“I read your note.”

“Oh.”

Jim heard the reservation in that small word. He walked to the door and pulled on his coat while talking. “I have some things to say.” Opening the loft door, Jim walked toward the elevator and punched the down button.

“Okay, Jim.”

Blair's voice sounded -- resigned, but Jim would fix that very quickly. He entered the elevator and said a quick prayer that the cell connection didn't disappear while he was heading for the ground floor.

“Cheap Trick.”

“What?”

“The song lyrics, Sandburg. The band.”

“Right. Right. The lyrics. Too mushy, huh?”

“No, not too,” Jim said, pulling the door leading to the street open. “Besides, it's St. Valentine's Day. It's okay to be romantic today.”

“Good. I like romantic. I need romantic sometimes.”

“Don't we all?”

“Don't know. Do we?”

“Yeah, Blair, we do.” Jim stopped behind Blair's Volvo. He could see Blair's curly head through the back window where he was leaning against the driver's door. “So ask me again, Chief, because I'm -- listening now.”

“Okay. If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“Jim, why the fancy dinner, man? Why the candles and the fire and the delicious smells? I mean, your food is always good, but that smelled better than the usual tuna casserole. Much better.”

“You hungry, Sandburg?”

“A bit.”

Jim walked along the driver's side and stood quietly at the window. “The fancy dinner was an invitation, Blair. To you from me. Asking you if you'd be -- and this is going to sound really mushy, if you'd be my...”

Jim watched as Blair sat up in his seat and when Jim tapped on the glass, Blair jumped. Jim grinned and said into the phone, “...my Valentine, you dickhead.”

When Blair's mouth fell open, Jim smiled and shrugged. He hit the off button on his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Pulling open Blair's door, he reached out a hand and was very pleased when a slightly cold hand touched his.

“Come out of there, Chief.”

He felt Blair hold back for a moment, then he asked, “Are you going to slug me?”

Jim tugged. “No. I'm going to kiss you.”

Blair launched himself from the vehicle and caught his foot on the door's edge. Still holding Blair's left hand, Jim grabbed his elbow to keep him from taking a header.

“Take it easy, Sandburg. I'm not going anywhere.”

Blair laughed deeply. The rich sound tickled Jim's ears, making him join in the laughter. When Blair finally found his feet, he stood looking not at all like the usual Sandburg that Jim knew and loved. He managed to actually look a bit shy with his head down. When Jim focused, he could hear Blair's heart pounding.

Jim put a finger under Blair's chin and tipped his head up until their eyes met. “Nice flowers, Chief. And I didn't sneeze once.”

With that, Jim leaned down just a bit, Blair tipped up his face just a bit, and their lips touched lightly. Pulling back, they both grinned foolishly. Jim ruffled Blair's hair and Blair smacked Jim's arm.

“Hungry?” Jim asked.

“Starved!” Blair answered. “Dinner still edible?”

“Yeah. Chicken cacciatore. Emeril's own recipe. It keeps for a good while. Besides, it's even better after it's set for a while. Mellows out the flavors. Oven's still on warm.”

“You made me a special recipe? Oh, man. That sounds great!” Blair gave Jim a wide grin.

“Let's eat, then,” Jim said in a low, husky voice, his tone implying that a lot of tasting was going to be done tonight, and it didn't just include dinner.

Blair looked surprised for a moment before a hungry, happy and very sexy grin crossed his face. “I could eat.”

Jim slipped an arm around Blair's waist while Blair slipped an arm around Jim's. Together, they went in for dinner.

The End

Thanks to my betas for their great work and help. Thanks to Ankaree for the pretty art.

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