Work Text:
Penchant
by Sheryl
Author's disclaimer: I own Jim? Okay, I don't - but I just know Santa is going to be bringing him this year.
Penchant
by Sheryl
"Penchant for trouble? Can you believe that, Jim? I mean, can you actually believe he said that?" Blair gesticulated angrily before stalking to the passenger's door of the '69 Ford pick-up truck. "And you!" he continued to rant, pointing an accusatory finger at his silent partner. "You just stood there with that...that...smirk!"
Climbing into the truck, Blair stared for a moment at Jim, who had wisely schooled his features and now tentatively settled in behind the steering wheel. Blair gave him a hard whack on the arm. "Are you listening to me, man? Aren't you going to say anything? I mean, how come you didn't stick up for me -- Partner? I thought partners were supposed to stick up for each other? Why did you just stand there with that big...dumb...smirk on your face? Just tell me that, Jim. Why?"
Jim Ellison let out a long-suffering sigh and started the truck. Carefully he maneuvered the vehicle through the underground garage and then with a slightly puzzled expression, he glanced at the other man as he merged into the traffic. "What do you mean 'big, dumb smirk'?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Jim and don't try to change the subject." Blair folded his arms across his chest and glared stubbornly at Jim.
"Well Chief..." Jim shrugged and then winced. "You do seem to find more than your share of trouble."
"Oh that's great, Jim. That's juuust great. So, you agree with Simon? You think that I actually like these....these things that happen to me?"
"Now, I didn't say that, Chief."
"So, then what is it Jim? Enlighten me, please. Wait, wait I know. Maybe you guys think that I plan these little mishaps? Like, maybe I sit at the table each morning while having my cup of coffee and contemplate ways of putting myself in danger. Yeah, that's it. You know, just this morning I said to myself, Blair, wouldn't it be really fucking fun to have some psychotic criminal trample you and smash your face into the wall while escaping police custody."
"Attempting to escape custody."
"What?"
"He didn't actually escape, we caught him."
"Uh...right, whatever! The thing I don't understand here, is how you could possibly turn that around on me. It was your fault he escaped, not mine! Am I right, here? I was just standing there, minding my own business. Well, minding your business, but the point is -- I was not looking for trouble."
"Okay, Chief. Point taken." With another long sigh, Jim reached down and turned on the radio. He could only hope that he had appeased his offended lover, otherwise the whole evening would be spent listening to an unreasonable tirade, cataloguing all of the injustices in the world -- which, now that he thought about it, could actually be fun too.
I'll have a blue Christmas...
"Jim, please. Not that song. Please, I just...I can't stand to hear that song again. I hate that song. Please, just turn it off."
"What? You hate Christmas songs?"
"No, I hate that song!"
"Riiight. Okay, whatever you say, Ebenezer."
"Just because I hate one song does not make me a scrooge," Blair huffed with his arms still crossed defensively, a scowl adorning his normally placid features.
At the moment his amiable guide was looking very much like a stubborn, surly teenager. Jim pushed the button on the radio.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock...
Without a word, Blair leaned over and twisted the knob to off.
Jim couldn't contain his chuckle and when he glanced at Blair, he chuckled again. He looked so damned adorable pouting like that, especially with that shiner. "You hate Rudolph the red nosed reindeer too. That's pretty scrooge-like if you ask me, Chief."
"I do not hate Rudolph the red nosed reindeer."
"Really? Well that's good. Because it's on tonight and so is Frosty the Snowman." Jim grinned and nodded happily.
There was a long moment of silence and then, with a pained expression, Blair looked at his partner. "You're not going to make me watch those again, are you Jim?"
Jim raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. "You mean you don't want to?"
"Jim, you make me watch those every year. Every year, Jim! We are adults here, right? I mean...come on, what is with this fascination you have with Santa and red nosed reindeers?"
"See, you do hate Rudolph." Jim accused, pointedly.
"I do not hate Rudolph. You know...this...this is so stupid, Jim. First of all, there is no such thing as Rudolph and second of all, I can't believe we are even having this discussion."
"Oh come on, now. Watching Rudolph is...well...it's like a tradition. Every year you just have to watch those specials," Jim attempted to explain as he parked the truck outside of their building. "And since we are having this discussion, why don't you explain to me how someone who is into every obscure cultural tradition ever made up, can hate Rudolph?"
"We're talking about television shows, Jim. Little kid's television shows are not exactly cultural traditions."
"Did you like them when you were a kid?"
When Blair didn't respond, Jim prompted again. "Well?"
Blair shrugged, looking nonchalant. "I didn't watch little kid's shows. Actually, I really didn't watch much television at all. You know, there is more to life than TV, Jim."
Understanding dawned; his poor baby had been deprived. "Aww...Chief."
~Later ~
Jim seated himself comfortably on the couch, holding a large bowl of popcorn. "It's almost seven o'clock."
Blair shook his head, not looking up from his laptop. "Very good, Jim. And when the big hand gets to the six, it will be...?"
Jim tossed a piece of popcorn at him, causing Blair to stop and raise an eyebrow. He picked the popcorn from the crease in his sleeve where it landed and popped it into his mouth.
"So tell me Chief, the reason you hate Rudolph. Is it because you never got to watch it when you were little?" He cleared his throat. "I mean when you were a kid?"
"Funny Jim." Blair smirked and then reached into the bowl, taking a handful of popcorn. "I could have watched it if I'd wanted to. In fact, we did watch it one year. Naomi and I watched them all one year. I just could never understand how kids could watch that show year after year and not see what a...a bigot that Santa Claus guy is!"
Jim choked on his popcorn.
Blair quickly set his laptop down, patted Jim on the back and then handed him the cup of cocoa he had placed on the coffee table.
A short time later, Jim was finally able to catch his breath and settle back on the couch again. "Did you say what I think you said?"
"What?" Blair asked absently as he watched the other reindeer's little clay eyes contract when Rudolph's nose suddenly came to life.
"Did I hear you say...Santa Claus is a bigot?" Jim looked at him in utter disbelief.
"Well, yeah. I mean look at him," Blair pointed toward the television with obvious displeasure. "He's supposed to be this great guy, but he castigates poor Rudolph just because he looks different. Man, that is like, so depressing."
Jim was at a loss for words, so they continued watching in silence, with Blair shaking his head sadly every so often throughout the duration of the show.
"At least it was a happy ending." Jim muttered, anticlimactically as the sleigh flew into the night.
"Yeah," Blair snorted knowingly. "That's because Santa discovered that he needed Rudolph. He wasn't goin' anywhere without ol' Rudolph. He used that poor little reindeer for a fog light. What a jerk."
"Sandburg!" Jim shouted with a sudden burst of laughter. "Will you stop?"
"Hey, sorry Jim. Just telling it like I see it."
"You know, maybe you're looking at it all wrong. Did you ever think of that, Darwin?"
Blair considered this possibility, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He then abruptly shook his head. "Nope."
"Well, Chief the message I always got was that you should give everyone a chance. You shouldn't dislike others because they are different. I think you're reading way too much into it." No big surprise there. "Now, be quiet Frosty is on."
"The Great Sentinel of the City says to be quiet, Frosty is on!"
Another piece of popcorn landed in his hair.
"Happy Birthday!"
Blair rolled his eyes, shooting his partner a look of disbelief. "Okay, maybe -- just maybe, I can buy that Rudolph reasoning you offered earlier, but this -- this is really stupid, Jim."
"You're just saying that because the bad guy is a professor, Professor." Jim taunted and tossed another piece of popcorn at him.
"I can't believe you're throwing food. I'm sure there's a house rule against this." Blair picked up the popcorn and threw it back.
"Maybe Santa will get you a nice hat like that for Christmas, if you're a good boy."
"Fuck you."
"You'd better watch it, Chief. Santa is not going to..." Jim's warning was cut off as he was pounced on by a menacing anthropologist. "You just spilled the popcorn all over."
"Uh-huh." Blair sprawled himself out on top of the larger man.
"We're missing Frosty."
"Frosty sucks." Blair began unbuttoning Jim's shirt.
"Maybe...maybe I like that in a snowman?" Jim grinned.
"Oh yeah?" Blair smiled back expectantly and then focused his attention on smooth, muscular expanse of chest before him.
"Yeah...and anthropologists." He groaned as Blair's mouth worked it's way down his abdomen, at the same time Blair's fingers were fumbling with the button on his jeans.
"We really should clean up that popco-ohh...." The instant Blair's mouth descended upon Jim's erection, the popcorn was completely forgotten.
~*~
A few hours later, Jim awoke to the sound of the "National Anthem" resonating from the television speakers. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on the VCR. Damn, Sandburg had distracted him -- probably had it planned all evening, too -- and he'd missed his shows. Well, if it came right down to it, he had to admit that making out with Blair was way better than any television show. Matter of fact, the two didn't even come close to comparing. "Come on, Chief. Let's go upstairs," he coaxed with a yawn, giving a squeeze to the warm body fitted perfectly on top of his.
"Mm-Mm," and a small rustle of the chestnut brown curls, let him know that Blair was in no hurry to move. He snuggled even closer to Jim and then relaxed with a soft, peaceful sigh.
Okay, so they were sleeping on the couch tonight. He could do that. And the popcorn would have to wait until morning. He fumbled around for the remote and then clicked off the TV, leaving only the glow from the lights on the Christmas tree -- the Christmas tree that Blair had picked up and decorated to Jim's surprise.
It wasn't the greatest looking tree. In fact, it could almost be described as pathetic looking. He was guessing that Blair had done the 'Charlie Brown thing' and chosen it because he'd felt sorry for it. A wave of tenderness washed over him and he tightened his embrace, protectively enclosing Blair in his arms.
Yawning again, he allowed himself to gradually succumb to slumber. He kissed the top of his lover's head, while continuing to lazily running his fingers through the silky locks. As he drifted off in the quiet, cozy warmth of the shimmering lights, he reveled in the familiar heartbeat and scent of his most cherished and beloved, nestled securely against him -- and in the knowledge that tomorrow night Charlie Brown and The Grinch would be on. He had a feeling he'd be missing them too.
End