They don't belong to me. No money is being made. I'll put them back when I'm done.

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Detective James Ellison was having, quite possibly, the worst day of his career. It had all started when he overslept and missed a briefing with a visiting FBI agent in regards to an escaped bank robber. His boss, Captain Simon Banks, had not been pleased. Then, Rafe had snagged the last buttermilk donut right out from under his nose. After that, a nasty computer virus ate all his files and notes on the Reynolds case. He could only hope that things would get better after lunch. They didn't. As a matter of fact, he didn't even get to have lunch. The meal was interrupted when the deli he was in got held up. He pursued the robber down the street and into an alley. The perp was young, no more than 15, and pretty fast. The Detective had to really work to keep up. Today was the kind of day when he felt every single one of his 38 years. The kid got away by leaping over a chain link fence. Jim had tried to follow but wound up getting tangled and ripping his favorite tan Dockers. Now everyone could see the boxers he was wearing. Black with little neon green frogs. He just knew that when he came into work tomorrow, his desk would be covered with frogs of every size and description. H kept looking at him over the edge of his paperwork and giggling. Apparently, the patented Ellison - I can kill you with a paperclip at 100 paces-Glare lost a little something when your underwear was showing.

Jim finally decided to call it quits after a man arrested for being drunk and disorderly threw up on his shoes. It began to rain as he left the station and headed for what he hoped would be a quiet evening at home with his lover. Blair had spent his day at the University and it was the kid's night to cook. The detective cringed when he thought about what could be waiting for him. After the day he'd had, the last thing he wanted to deal with was bean sprouts and tofu for supper.

He was half-way home when he came across the woman with the flat tire. Mrs. Wang was 8 months pregnant and Jim, Protector of the Tribe, simply couldn't leave her there in the pouring rain. He tried to call the auto club but his cell phone was dead. With a heavy sigh, he rolled up his sleeves and pulled the jack out of the trunk of her car. It looked like dinner, whatever it was, would have to wait.

Forty-five minutes later, a very tired, cranky and soggy detective trudged his way up the stairs to his apartment. The elevator wasn't working...again. He opened the door and beheld paradise. The loft was warmly lit with candles and there was a fire blazing in the hearth. The gentle strains of classical guitar emanated from the stereo and the air was laden with the scent of a thick and hearty beef stew. Jim sniffed again. Freshly baked bread and apple cobbler, too? Yum.

"Jim!"

Jim looked up into the bedroom and watched as his lover trotted down the stairs at a rapid pace. Blair was an absolute vision in thick wool socks, gray sweatpants and an oversized flannel shirt. The young man's shoulder length sable curls bounced with every step. Blair reached the bottom stair and crossed the living area, blue eyes wide with concern behind his wire-framed glasses.

"My God! What the hell happened to you?" He asked the dripping man in the doorway.

Jim shook his head and shrugged out of his sopping denim shirt. "I've had the day from hell, Chief. Let's just leave it at that. All I want now is a hot meal and some dry clothes."

Blair grabbed a green plastic garbage bag from under the sink and handed it to his lover. "Here," he said. "Take off your clothes and put them in this. I don't want you dripping all over the floor. I know how you hate water stains. Meet me in the bathroom when you're done. Your hands are like ice and your lips are blue. I'm going to run you a nice hot bath to take off the chill. Just leave the bag and I'll bring it down to the laundry room while you're soaking."

Jim began pulling off soggy clothes and stuffing them in the bag. He could hear the water running and smell the relaxing scent of lavender oil emanating from down the hall. The detective left the soggy bundle by the door and padded to the bathroom. Blair was humming softly as he added bath salts to the steaming tub of water.

"Is it ready yet?" Jim asked plaintively from the doorway. The anthropologist looked up and smiled sympathetically.

"You poor baby. You're frozen solid. Yes, it's ready. Climb on in and I'll put some water on for tea."

Jim slid into the soothing water with a heartfelt sigh. Blair always took such good care of him. He was a very lucky man. The heated water took off the chill and eased the ache in his muscles. Mix in the soothing scent of lavender, and he began to feel drowsy. He put his head back against the tiled wall and drifted off to sleep.

When he woke some time later, the water was growing cool and there was a mug of tea on the clothes hamper next to the tub. Jim had been so zonked, he hadn't heard Blair come in. This day had taken a lot out of him.

"Jim, that water must be getting cold by now. Dinner is ready so finish up and get your butt out here."

The detective could hear the sound of bowls and cutlery hitting the table He pulled himself out of the tub and dried off. When he found the fresh pair of sweats and his robe folded neatly on the counter, he smiled. Yup, Blair really did take good care of him.

When he emerged from the bathroom the smell of the hearty stew and fresh bread made his mouth water. The detective grabbed his spoon and dove in. The stew was rich and hearty with lots of savory herbs that really brought out the flavor of the beef and vegetables. The warm bread slathered with butter was a perfect accompaniment. Jim ate three bowls before he looked up to find his lover watching him from across the table.

"Hungry?" the younger man asked with one eyebrow raised.

Jim leaned back and rubbed his full tummy. "Chief, you have no idea. I didn't have time for breakfast and I missed lunch. This really hit the spot."

"I'm glad you liked it. Do you think you have any room left for dessert?"

"Apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream?" Jim asked.

Blair laughed at the hopeful expression on his lover's face. "Yes, with nice some hot coffee."

An hour later, after dessert and coffee, the dishes were done and they two men were lounging on the sofa. The fire and the candles cast a warm glow over the loft and made Jim feel all cozy inside. The rain pattering on the glass doors leading to the balcony was hypnotic. Blair sat with his feet on the coffee table while Jim lay with his head in the younger man's lap. Blair absent-mindedly stroked Jim's short hair while reading a book. The detective lay there contentedly and did absolutely nothing. It felt wonderful. No pressures, no demands, he could simply be. Such a feeling of peace and well being washed over him that he sighed deeply. The hand moving through his hair stopped.

"Such a heavy sigh. What was that for?" Blair asked with a smile in his voice.

Jim sat up and faced his lover. "Nothing. I was just thinking about how lucky I am."

He leaned in and kissed Blair on his full, soft lips. Initially, the kiss was gentle, reverent. But soon it deepened and intensified, showing all the passion the two men felt for each other.

When they drew apart to take a deep breath, Blair smiled and grabbed Jim's hand. He tugged the larger man to his feet and began dragging him towards the stairs.

"Come on, Big Guy, let me take you upstairs and show you just how lucky you really are..."

The two men scrambled up the stairs and soon the loft was filled with the moans and soft cries of love. Later, the only sound was the steady drumming of the rain on the windows as the lovers slept contentedly wrapped in each other's arms.

End Cold November Rain by WendyK: wlk68@msn.com

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