Author's webpage: http://www.skeeter63.org/~k9kennel/

Author's disclaimer: I disclaim all knowledge of any conspiracy revolving around the kidnapping of Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg for the purposes of restraining them within the comfortable confines of alyjude's well-stocked basement. However, she is accepting checks, moneyorders, cash and first born children from those wishing to gain access to her basement. Word of warning: Bring lube

(PS: I also don't make a dime from this stuff. What, you thought the world would pay me for this? Get real)

Author's notes: NOTES: This story reposting is a result of several conversations on saficdic, the Sentinel Adult Fiction Discussion List. The wonderful readers and authors inspired me to go back and look at the crap I first produced! This story was originally posted on sxf in October or November of, are you ready? {{{{1998}}}}!!! It was never archived and until now, has never appeared at The Kennel. If it sounds familiar, then you've been here too long!! :)) It was orginally posted with the title of: "DANGLING" and represented my very first multi-part story. I posted one part each night until I completed it. I had no way back then of posting multi-part stories all at once.

NOTE2: I have, with the wonderful help of my beta, Winds-of-Dawn (thank you, wod!) gone back and made corrections to my grammar etc, and a few updates (like adding in Tiger Woods ). I also moved the time of the story from a few months after Spare Parts to a several weeks after Sentoo/2. But because I wanted to preserve the mindset of the author (um, that would be me) I have left the story basically as is and maintained the PG rating. Back then I had ABSOLUTELY no idea how to write a same sex love scene. So - NO SEX. But you guys have imaginations, so use them! LOL!

Warnings: When you have Jim Ellison locked in your basement with Blair Sandburg, don't EVER interrupt. {{{{EVER}}}}. Damn, Ellison is touchy.

Just Another Saturday
by alyjude

Damn commercials.

Jim Ellison gave brief thought to getting up for another beer, but he was just too comfortable. It was Saturday, he was watching Tiger Woods tear up the seventeenth fairway, and except for commercials - all was right with his world.

He used the mindless hawking of nighttime toothpaste to gaze around his home. And as usual, he stopped looking when he came to his roommate. Somehow, his roamings always ended with Sandburg.

At the moment, Mr. Computer was typing away, his tongue stuck out in concentration and his glasses were perched precariously on the end of his nose. Jim couldn't help the monstrous grin.

The sun was on its way down and a soft breeze rustled through the trees. Summer was on its way out. Autumn was on its way in and Blair's typing seemed to fit right in. Everything was cozy, normal, right.

"Damn."

"Jim?"

"Company, Sandburg."

"Damn. And it was such a nice day too."

Ellison made his way, albeit reluctantly, to the front door and even as he was reaching for the knob, he knew who was on the other side.

Putting on his best cheerful face, Jim swung the door open.

"Naomi. Good to see you again."

Blair immediately started fumbling with his papers as he pushed his chair back and squeaked out, "Mom?"

Naomi Sandburg swept into the room, arms open wide.

"Sweetie!"

Blair found himself wrapped in billowing silk before he could sputter out an appropriate reply. He glanced at Jim - and really hated the smirk gracing the older man's handsome features.

He found himself held out at arms length and examined closely.

"Blair, honey, you look wonderful. Handsome as ever!"

"Mom, what a surprise. I didn't realize you were in - town."

Naomi released her son and turned to plant a kiss on Jim's cheek. Blair didn't even try to hide his smirk.

"I know, honey. It was a last minute decision, and don't panic, Jim, I'm leaving in the morning and I'm staying at the hotel near the ariport."

"Tomorrow? Uh, mom, we haven't seen each other for months and there's no way you're staying in a hotel, right, Jim?"

"Absolutely, Chief. You're welcome anytime, Naomi, you know that."

"Thank you, Jim and honey, I wish I had more time too, but I'm on my way to New York and my flight leaves at noon."

Blair's disappointment was evident, his face an open book. Naomi continued as if unaware.

"I do have some incredible news, it's the reason I have to be in New York." Naomi glanced from her son to Jim and back again, clearly waiting for someone to ask.

Jim, feeling the one-sided tension, decided to be the one.

"Well, I don't know about you, Chief, but I'll bite. What's the news, Naomi?"

A huge smile lit up Naomi's face and Jim had to blink. Blair. That smile - was Blair.

"I've written a book and it's going to be published."

Blair was stunned. His mother, writing a book?

"That's why New York. My publisher is there, of course, and I have contracts to sign."

Jim noticed how Naomi watched her son and realized that she was nervous. Blair must have felt it too because he stepped forward with a warm smile.

"Gee, mom, that's - great. Really."

Jim had to give Sandburg his due, the man could really put it on when he needed to, but then, so could Jim Ellison.

"This is terrific news, Naomi. We've got to celebrate."

"Jim, that is so sweet, but I only have tonight and I don't want to be any trouble."

Blair had walked back to the table and with shaking hands that only a sentinel would notice, started clearing up and shutting down his computer. Police procedural books were closed and quickly stacked, then carried into his room.

Jim was worried. The topic of publications was still a fresh wound in Blair and one that he'd as yet not discussed with his mother.

"Look, why don't I run to the store, buy a few things, cook a celebration meal, and in the meantime, you two talk, okay?"

Without taking her eyes from Blair's retreating form, Naomi reached out and gave Jim's arm a squeeze.

Blair came back out nodding. "Thanks Jim, that's a - great idea."

"Right, great idea," he muttered as he grabbed his coat and keys.

Naomi turned toward him and smiled her thanks, but it was the look on Blair's face that almost stopped him. He was staring at his mother and Jim could see the hurt swimming around in the sapphire depths.

Without giving it any thought, he stepped over to Blair, dropped a kiss on his cheek and walked out the door.

If he'd have stayed, he'd have seen the puzzled expression on Naomi's face and the total, unadulterated shock on Blair's.

Blair recovered quickly and knowing his partner as he did, he turned back toward the door and began to count backwards.

"Five --- four --- three --- two --- one."

Jim stepped back into the loft, redfaced and breathing hard. He looked at Naomi.

"Uh, Naomi?"

Then he looked at Blair.

"Uh, Blair?"

Blair stared right back at him and said with a glimmer of the old Sandburg humor, "Got something you want to share, Jim?"

Jim stared from one to the other.

Okay, he could deal with this. So what if he'd just kissed Blair.

The two faces with the twin expressions showed no sign of taking a so at face value.

Fine, if this was their reaction to a simple kiss on the cheek, he'd give them something to react to.

Jim went casual.

"Sorry, I forgot these." He reached back into the basket and picked up his sunglasses. He chose to ignore Blair's pointed jerk toward the setting sun.

He smiled at the two, one of his more brilliant smiles, then oh, so casually, patted Blair on the ass.

"Be right back."

As he stepped out into the hall, he stared down at his hand. It was surprisingly - warm.

Humming, he started down the stairs but paused as Blair's voice floated down to him.

"Lucy, you've got some s'plaining to do!"

Jim quickened his steps.

Back in the loft, Blair was left with his mother.

A woman he hadn't seen in months, and who A) had just seen his male roommate kiss him on the cheek and pat his ass and B) didn't know that Blair was no longer a teaching fellow at the University, that he was, in fact, on his way to becoming a police officer.

Okay, he could deal with this, whatever this was.

Blair turned to face the inquisitor, a large and very casual smile on his face.

First things first. The easiest.

"Mom, I'm going to be a cop."

"Here," Blair took his mother's hand and placed a tall, cold glass of water in it, "Drink this."

She downed it all in one gulp. Her son - a cop.

"Scotch, dear? Would you have any scotch?"

"Mom, come on, the news isn't that earthshattering."

"My beautiful son, an anthropologist and he tells me he's about to become a cop and you don't think that deserves a scotch? And Jim Ellison kissed you on the cheek and patted your ass. Dear, that's two major lifestyle changes."

Blair got up and found the scotch. He poured himself a stiff one, then put it away.

"Now, mom, this is my life and this is what I want to do. My dissertation is a no go and don't ask, because I don't want to discuss it. And as for the ass thing? Well, you watch football, right? That was just - male bonding. And I'm sure he meant to kiss you."

That was his story and was sticking to it.

"That's your story?"

"Mom, trust me - nothing is going on between Jim and me, nothing."

Her expression simply repeated her previous question.

"Mom, it's not a story."

"Blair, honey, it's not like I didn't pick up the vibes the last time I was here. And it's not like I mind - exactly, I mean, not about you being with a man, I hear that. It's the cop part I'm not too thrilled with. Although," her hands were waving in the air, in a perfect imitation of her son, "although, obviously, you now becoming a cop, make my objections to Jim a bit - moot."

Although," she repeated again, her hand punctuating the word, "I realize it is your life and these are your choices and I know Jim will protect you," she looked at her son and smiled. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yes, a little, but mom, there is nothing....vibes? What vibes? What vibes did you pick up? There are so not any vibes here, I mean," he got up and started to pace, his hands waving in the air and Naomi recognized the signs as a prequel to an anxiety attack.

"....no vibes here, no sir, none, zip, nada, just two friends, partners, what vibes?"

She crossed over to his side and took his waving hand. "Honey, maybe we should meditate together? You're getting a little tense."

Blair recognized that soothing voice and wondered vaguely if that was how he sounded to Jim when he was taking him through his exercises?

"Mom, I'm fine." And did Jim find that voice as nauseating as he found it in his mother?

"Blair, sit down and breathe."

"Naomi," he said firmly. "I am not having a panic attack, okay? I haven't had one in over three years!"

Three years? Wow, since he'd moved in with Jim.

"Three years, Blair? Why that's wonderful, dear. When did you move in here - exactly?"

He could handle this, he could. Once he remember how to breathe and then killed Jim.

"Look, when Jim gets back, you can ask him, what he was ---- what he meant ---- who he meant - to kiss. Okay? He'll tell you - NO VIBES."

He'll be dead of course, but maybe Blair would let him clear the air first. Yeah, clear air, then kill. Excellent plan.

"Hey, mom, maybe we should cleanse the place a bit? A little sage?"

That would fix his wagon.

"Blair, are you denying that you and Jim are a couple?"

What could he say to that?

"Mom, we are so not together, it's like - no, we're not a couple. You've got to get that ass pat out of your mind. It was just male bonding, like I said. Football, huddles, you know."

"That was male - possession, Blair, not bonding."

He was losing. He was telling the truth and was still losing.

"Mom, I'd be the first one to know if Jim and I were - possessing, you know?"

A knock at the door forstalled further conversation and Blair could only wonder how the day could get any worse. Maybe it was Simon. That would do it.

Blair opened the door.

"Simon."

Oh, shit. He couldn't handle this.

Before Blair could welcome Simon, Naomi grabbed the large man's arm and pulled him inside.

"Captain Banks, how good to see you again."

She reached up and kissed the surprised man on his cheek.

Way too much cheek kissing going on in this loft today. Okay, Blair could use another cheek kiss from Ellison, as in - turn the other cheek? Ass cheek? Whoa, get a grip, Sandburg.

Naomi was leading the stunned Simon into the living room and Blair froze at her next words.

"Maybe you can tell me what's going on between your detective and my son?"

Matricide, then jail. Peaceful in jail.

"MOM!" He grabbed her away from Simon and started to lead her into his bedroom. "Simon, excuse my mother, she just took one of her own concoctions and it's having a very strange effect on her." He opened his doors and added, looking over his shoulder at Simon, "I'll just get her settled, calm her down a bit," but at that moment, Naomi simply slipped out of his grasp and glided back to Simon.

"Blair Sandburg, I'm ashamed of you! Simon, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me and is it possible that you are even more handsome than the last time we saw each other?"

She once again took the big man's arm and led him to the couch where she sat him down and took the spot next to him.

"So, tell me about Jim and Blair?"

Since working with Blair Sandburg, Simon Banks had become familiar with words like, strange and different, two words that seemed to follow the young man the way he followed Ellison. But today, today went so far beyond strange or different, that Banks had the urge to check his wallet - make sure he was Simon Banks.

On the other hand, he wasn't the Captain of Major Crime for nothing.

"Naomi, it's wonderful seeing you again and may I say, you are even more beautiful than ever?"

Blair, standing behind them, suddenly bent over as if looking for something on the floor.

"Blair, what are you doing?"

He straightened. "Oh, uh, just picking my jaw up from the ground. You know, I think I'll," he pointed to the door, "I think I'll just go outside, see if Jim needs any help - when he gets here. Okay?"

Before either could react, he'd bolted.

Blair ran down the stairs which was a big mistake. He made it down two flights before his body passed his feet. He fell down the last flight and came to rest in a heap at the bottom.

A few moments later, Jim, arms laden with groceries, entered the lobby. He was so wrapped up in thoughts about what Sandburg was going to do to him, that he never heard the tumbling body.

But he felt it, with his foot, which struck the Blairlump. Groceries flew into the air and Jim went down - on Blair.

He expected to hit hard floor, not soft body.

>From that point, it only took a moment to catalogue smell, hearing and touch to realize he'd landed on Blair. And that Blair wasn't moving.

Jim scrambled to his knees and did a quick sentinel reconnaissance and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. No broken bones and Sandburg was showing signs of revival.

Blair started to moan and move so Jim placed his hand against the younger man's chest and gently restrained him. "Take it easy, Blair, don't move, you took a nasty spill."

Blue eyes locked with his, blinked, focused.

"You're a dead man, Ellison." The words were barely a whisper, but the intent was clear.

Jim's hand was still resting on Blair's chest and he quickly swatted it away. "I'm fine, Jim, leave me alone."

"Blair, you were out for several seconds, maybe longer. Now stay put or I call an ambulance."

Blair, who'd been struggling to sit up, now dropped slowly back down. "Fine, but you're still a dead man. And did I mention? Simon is currently sitting in your living room, alone with mymother, who is grilling him about us. Did I mention that, you schmuck?"

Jim was checking Blair's pupils, which for Blair, looked normal. "So?"

"So? That's all you can say? So? Naomi, thanks to you, you asshole, thinks we're a, you know, that we're - and now she's pumping Simon for information. Simon, you remember him? Our boss?"

Jim straightened, bringing Blair with him and carefully, he got them both up. "Who cares what Simon thinks? Or anyone else for that matter?"

They were standing close, bodies touching, Jim's arm around Blair's waist, giving him support. Blair's hand was on Jim's arm for purchase. "Jim, you've lost it, man." But his breathing was coming with more difficulty as he breathed in Jim's aftershave....

Ellison leaned in closer. "No I haven't. I'm a cop. With great instincts. I often act on those instincts. You got a problem with that, Chief?"

Blair leaned back, staring up at Ellison as if he were a complete stranger. But the glitter in Jim's eyes....

"uh, no, no problem."

"Good, let's get you upstairs."

Keeping his arm around Blair and negotiating the grocery obstacle course, Jim started up the stairs.

Blair felt every step - in his back. And he was mad. Jim was being too - nice. He hated a nice Sentinel. He bit back his groans, but damn, he knew Jim could sense every wince.

They finally made it to number 307 and Jim got the door open, calling for Simon at the same time.

But Simon didn't hear him, he was busy.

Investigating Naomi's mouth.

And by the looks of it, Naomi was doing a fine job of investigating Simon's mouth at the same time.

Jim looked down at Blair, who looked up at Jim. Two pairs of almost identical blue eyes made contact.

"So, did you hear about my mother's book?"

"Yeah, great news, Chief."

"Mom!"

Naomi pulled away from the very warm and wonderful embrace, turned her head and blinked at the vision staring at her from the front door.

Her son, in Jim Ellison's arms? She was off the couch in an instant, which unfortunately, caused Simon Banks to almost fall headfirst into the cushions.

"So! There's nothing between you and Jim, isn't that what you said, Blair Jacob Sandburg? And to think, you actually had me believing you. But here you are, in his arms."

Simon wasn't exactly sure what to do. These were - strange circumstances indeed. Should he get up? Follow Naomi? Demand answers of his detectives? He started to rise, but then dropped back down. He wasn't a coward - exactly, but he did believe in never interfering in family affairs. First rule of good police work, if you wanted to stay alive.

He'd watch from the couch, gun at the ready.

Although - come to think of it, why was Blair in Jim's arms?

"Well, Blair, what do you have to say for yourself?" Naomi demanded, hands on hips.

Blair bristled. He catches his mother kissing his boss and she demands an explanation from him?

"I catch you kissing my boss and you want an explanation from me? Are you crazy?"

Realizing what he'd just said, he glanced quickly at their Captain. "Sorry, Simon, no offense, man."

Simon held up a hand. "None taken, son." Then he gulped and considered using the gun - on himself.

"Blair Sandburg, this is not about me. This is about you and trust and....," her waved toward Jim, "and - him."

Blair decided this had gone far enough. Or maybe ---- not far enough?

"Mom, what do you want me to say? I love the big lug, okay? We were married last week, a small, rather intimate ceremony, we should have invited you, but who knew where you were? And by the way? You'd have just loved it. Very outdoorsy, very natural, very sixties."

He slipped from Jim's shocked grasp and hobbled to the dining room table, using the back of a chair for support.

"Now, I don't want you to think this was a shotgun wedding, I mean, the baby isn't due for months," he turned to Banks, "And Simon, don't worry, the doctor says Jim can work right up to his due date. Of course, he'll be desk-bound, I mean, he can't go running after criminals when he's nine months pregnant, right?"

The stunned expressions on everyone's faces was all that Blair needed. But he wasn't quite finished.

"Now, you two kids go back to what you were doing, I believe you were discussing investigative techniques, while Jim and I slip into the study and start an investigation of our own." He looked at Jim and held out his hand. "Shall we - sweetheart?"

Jim was nothing if not quick on his feet. He knew who was in control. He nodded, took Blair's hand, got in close and sliding his other arm back around Blair's waist, he started moving him toward the french doors.

They came this close to succeeding.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, JAMES ELLISON."

James Ellison had taken a lot of orders in his time, but none had had the command of one pissed off mother. He stopped dead.

"All right, what's going on here, Blair? What are you hiding?"

Blair closed his eyes. God, so close.

"Mom - don't panic."

"I hate it when you say that. The last time you said that, you'd been in a car accident, remember? Oh, mom, don't panic, I'm fine. I was just thrown through the windshield, wasn't that how you told me?"

Jim's head whipped around. "WINDSHIELD? You were thrown through a WINDSHIELD?"

"Jim, shut up, you're not helping. Mom, I took a little - spill on the stairs. That's all. I'm just fine. And I never said I was thrown through a windshield, I said my backpack was thrown through windshield. I was thrown from the car in the normal way - from the passenger door flying open as the car flew over the cliff."

"Jim, didn't I tell you all his bad luck had nothing to do with working with us? Didn't I tell you that?"

"Simon, no offense, but shut up." Naomi smiled sweetly as she said it and Simon shut up.

Jim was looking aghast, his mouth hanging open. Blair made another decision. Namely that the whole world was going crazy - except him, of course.

"Look, I tripped, slipped and that's all. If you really want to help, mom, you and Simon could go downstairs and retrieve the groceries. They're all over the lobby floor. Please?"

Naomi opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, but finally, with a sigh, she turned around, grabbed Simon's arm and pulled him up and to the door.

"All right, Blair, but when we come back up with the groceries, you and I are going to talk, is that understood, young man?"

Blair rolled his eyes, but nodded. A moment later, he and Jim were alone.

He wiggled out of Jim's grasp, pulled out a chair and sunk down with a slight moan.

"Chief, you're hurt. I think we should take you to Emergency Care."

Blair dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "No need, just bruised my back, nothing serious. Just sore, I'll live - unless I kill myself first."

Jim reached for the younger man's shirt. "Chief, I thought I was the dead man here?" He smiled gently, "Come on, let me check you out."

He began to lift the shirt over Blair's head, which should have been an easy task, but then, this was most definitely the Sandburg Zone.

First, Blair discovered that he couldn't raise his arms high enough due to the pain, then he discovered he couldn't lean forward far enough, again due to pain, so Jim reached inside the shirt to help, and his watchband got tangled in Blair's hair.

Naturally, Blair tried to move his head away and even more naturally, his earrings somehow snagged an almost invisible thread from his shirt.

"Freeze, Chief. Don't move."

From under the shirt came an angry, muffled retort. "mmthats mmphwhat phmmfreezemph meanphs"

Jim ignored him. "We can handle this, Sandburg, we're both college graduates. We can figure this out."

"Mm mwhph kimphw, youmph, dickwad."

"Now, Blair, be reasonable. If you killed me now, you'll be trapped in there forever."

"tmpyhoh bmpe mphbk anphy soenfd."

"I know they'll be back any second. Just relax, stay calm and I'll take care of everything."

Using some clever gyrations, Jim soon had his watch free. Jubilantly, he held up his freed wrist and was horrorified at the amount of Blairhair hanging from the clasp of his watch.

"Boy, that must have hurt - and so much hair too. Of course, you've got so much, you won't even miss - these."

"MPPHER! YMPHR THP ONPMP GNMHG BWPHD!"

"That was below the belt, Chief, even for you. And I am not losing my hair!"

"MPHY EARIGMPH!"

"Okay, just a bit more, hold still, I've got it.....," and a few seconds later, "THERE! You're free and both ear and earring are doing just fine!"

Jim managed to get only the shirt, not the undershirt off, revealing a flushed and glassy-eyed Sandburg. His hair floated down, all the shades of mahogany shimmering with the setting sun -- and as fingers came up to push the mass of curls from his face, as he looked up at Jim, lips parted to speak, Jim's breath caught and he immediately followed his instincts by leaning down and covering Blair's mouth with his own.

Naomi and Simon naturally chose that moment to walk back into the loft.

As Naomi and Simon headed downstairs, the two very different people found themselves suddenly shy with each other. Simon watched the graceful moves of the woman in front of him and found himself grinning from ear to ear.

Her voice brought him thudding back to earth.

"Don't they make a perfect couple, Simon?"

"Naomi?"

She turned to gaze back at him. "Oh, come on, you must be aware of how they feel about each other? Why they're so much in love, it hurts to look at them."

"Are you telling me that you believe they really are a couple?"

They'd reached the bottom and were on their knees, picking up the groceries before Naomi finally answered him.

"No, they're not a couple - yet, but soon. Very soon."

Simon reached for a can of tomatoes and gave a disgusted snort. "So, what, we're playing matchmakers? Cupids?"

She paused and straightened up. "Why, yes, I believe we are. Does that bother you? My son and your detective?"

Simon thought about it for a minute. Not an easy road for any same sex couple today, but two cops? Shit. Then he looked at Naomi's glowing face....

"No, it doesn't bother me, Naomi. But it won't be easy for them."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is, Simon. But they'll have you, me, and their good friends. And the world is changing, Simon. Maybe not fast enough, but it is changing."

He could love this woman. He could love her very much. He leaned over and kissed her and she kissed him right back.

They finally parted, gathered up the rest of the groceries and with grins plastered on their faces, started back upstairs. Halfway back, Simon paused.

Blair could become - his son.

"Oh, God."

Naomi put her hand on his arm and smiled sweetly. "Now, Simon, having Jim Ellison as a son-in-law wouldn't be that bad."

"OHDEARGOD."

She patted his cheek and pushed open the front door - and froze.

Simon looked over her shoulder and his eyes widened.

"Simon," she whispered, "Did you hear about my book?"

"No, tell me about it."

Considering that he was watching two of his detectives devouring each other, he felt pretty good.

"Aren't they cute, Simon?" Naomi whispered up at him.

Cute was not his word of choice. But he nodded anyway. Cute. He'd have to remember that for later, say, poker night? When he held a losing hand?

In spite of the incredible feeling of using Blair Sandburg's mouth as his new playground, Jim had some of his senses working elsewhere and he realized, finally, that they were no longer alone. With great reluctance, he pulled away.

Just in time to hear Naomi call them cute.

Shit. He'd never live this down. He stood up, his face flushing beet red.

Blair on the other hand, was barely conscious and had this really - dopey smile on his face and his fingers kept reaching for Jim's shirt as Jim kept swatting his hand away.

"Naomi, I can explain this, it isn't what it looks like...."

God, he hadn't used that line since high school and it hadn't work then, either.

Jim's words brought Blair back to earth long enough to dig the hole Jim was working on, a little deeper.

"Yes it is," he said happily. Then he went back to foolishly grinning and reaching for Jim.

Jim gazed down at the dopey object of his affection and said, "Blair, you're not helping here." He turned back to Naomi just as Blair got a hold of his shirt. "Jim? I want more."

Now Jim Ellison knew what it was like to be stuck between that rock and the hard place.

And he was hard. He looked at that face, staring up at him, eyes glassy, grinning like an idiot and he almost gave in right then and there. But suddenly, all light vanished as he was swept up into Naomi's arms.

"Oh, Jim! I'm so happy for both of you!"

Okay, the shuttle had just left earth's orbit and Jim was on board.

Naomi released him and knelt down in front of her son and kissed him. Which had the effect of wiping the dopey grin from his face and replacing it with a frown.

"Uh, Mom? You're not - mad?"

"Well, mad isn't the right word, honey. Disappointed that it took this long, after all, you two have been living together for three years and it's like you purchased the dimmest bulb in the store, you know? But at long last, love!" She turned to Simon and asked, "Simon, am I right?"

Banks looked at his new love and shrugged. What could he say? Wasn't she always right?

"Absolutely, Naomi. My god, Jim, you're a detective! And you, Sandburg, an anthropologist, an observer of human nature, and soon to be a detective. Tsk-tsk."

Somehow, Blair knew this was all his mother's fault. But at the moment, he couldn't have cared less. He looked at Jim and his heart tripled its rate and his breathing quickened as he realized he really wanted to get to the possessing part.

But then the absurdity of the fact that what he'd done wrong was not the falling for the guy thing, wasn't even the falling for a cop thing, or even becoming the cop thing but that, according to Simon and his mother, he hadn't coupled with Jim Ellison much sooner! And that made him angry. Because they were right, but damn, who's life was it anyway?

He stood up and faced his mother.

"Okay, I think I've had it here. Simon, I respect you a great deal. You've been very patient all these years and I don't mind in the least that you kissed my mother, I think you make a great couple," he was interrupted by his mother thanking him. After throwing her an dirty look, he continued.

"BUT, what happens between Jim and I is our business. Mom, you've been out of line all day, and I for one, don't appreciate it. I'm twenty-nine years old and my life, my sex life, is exactly that - MINE. What I do with my life, is mine to.... do.....with. Is that clear? Mom? Simon?"

At two dumbfounded looks, he nodded. "I guess it is. Jim, you mentioned something about a celebration dinner? Why don't you and Simon get it started? Simon, you will stay, right?"

Simon nodded dumbly.

"Great. Mom, while they get started, why don't you help me to my room?"

If Jim was surprised by the sudden change in the man whose mouth he'd so recently invaded, he gave no sign. He just nodded, motioned for Simon to follow him, and together, they headed into the kitchen.

Blair started slowly toward his room, Naomi beside him. Once inside, he sunk down on his bed with a sigh.

"Honey? Is there anything I can do?"

The effects of the kiss were finally wearing off and the pain in his back was making itself known again.

"Mom, don't ask. I might actually tell you."

"Blair, please don't be mad. You know I only want your happiness."

"Please tell me you're not going the I only want what's best for you route? And when did you start becoming a mother?"

"Blair Sandburg, I will never understand you and you're my son. And I always go the mother route - I'm your mother."

She watched him struggle with the undershirt and started forward to help, but his muffled voice telling her he was fine, stopped her.

"Honey, aren't you happy about the way things have worked out?" As she spoke, she opened his drawer, pulled out a sweatshirt, then as his head appeared, handed it to him.

"Mom, I'm so confused right now, I'm seriously considering a retreat in Katmandu." He slipped the sweatshirt on, his voice once again muffled. By the time his head reappeared, he was saying,".......so straight, and yet he kissed me, and I really liked it," he straightened the shirt and continued, "I mean, we're talking really liked it, okay? Wait, I admit it, I loved it," he paused to take a breath as Naomi wisely held hers. Over the years, she'd learned to let Blair ramble until he figured out the problem for himself.

"I don't begin to understand it, but I loved it - love....I love....," Blair's body stilled, his eyes took on a dreamy quality and Naomi continued to hold her breath. Any minute now....

"I love him. I love Jim Ellison."

Well, finally. For a smart man - he was awfully slow.

Then Blair's face clouded over. "But there's no way - just no way he could, not for me...," Blair would have rambled on indefinitely, but Naomi's patience snapped.

"BLAIR SANDBURG, WHO KISSED WHOM? Don't you dare go into that I'm not worth it mode, don't you dare! Jim is in love with you, as well he should be. You're talented, smart, handsome and funny. And yes, I'm your mother and I'm prejudiced, but damn, it's all true."

"Mom, you can stop now. Okay? I get it." But the darkness in his eyes belied his words.

Naomi moved to the bed, sat down beside him and took his hand.

"Blair, I know I didn't give you the childhood you always needed, or the stability you craved, but I'd hoped that the traveling we did, the people we met would outweigh the loss of a permanent home."

"Mom, what does that have to do with......."

Naomi put a finger to his lips. "No, let me finish. I can see that you needed more stability than I gave you, an anchor, so to speak. But Blair, you have that now. You have to see how much Jim loves you. It's real, honey. His feelings are deep, true and real. Believe in them. Believe in him."

Okay, this was not his mother. A clone. That was it. A perfect, Stepford clone. But....her words, they made sense - in a Naomi non-cloning kind of way.

Naomi watched him puzzle it out. As she observed his expressive face, the need to hold him superseded the fact that he was no longer her baby boy. She reached out and pulled him into her arms. She closed her eyes and prayed he'd let this happen. It was a needless prayer.

As they held each other, visions of other hugs, other moments, flooded her mind. A kaleidoscope of moments, small snapshots of her life with Blair, revealing moments, telling moments.

She was twenty-three and holding a struggling, wiggling six year old in her arms. He was crying, his arms trying vainly to grab something, anything, that would keep him in his room. It was the third move in the previous two years.

Then she was twenty-five and could see an eight year old Blair, sitting in the backyard of their rental home. He was in the middle of the lawn, legs crossed, elbows resting on his skinned knees, his hands holding his face.

He was staring at the grass.

She went outside to see what had so entranced him and when she'd asked what was so interesting, he'd turned those huge blue eyes up to her, eyes swimming in stubborn, unshed tears and in a voice daring her to argue, he said defiantly, "I'm watching the grass grow and it really, really takes a long time and I have to watch it, so we can't possibly move until its done!"

Naomi held her thirty year old son a bit tighter and in her mind's eye, she saw the twelve year old version pacing nervously in a counselor's office, wearing a hole in the very expensive rug, while said man informed her of her son's intelligence, so far beyond anything she'd imagined. And later; that same twelve year old, coming home from school, his glasses broken, nursing a split lip and a black eye.

Not the first fight, not the last. Bullies picking on the small kid, the smart kid. The one who wouldn't fight back.

The panic attacks started not long after and as Naomi continued to hold Blair, she could hear one of the better therapists she'd taken Blair to over the years, telling her how sensitive Blair was, how intelligent and that he was an overachiever. But that he had nothing to ground him, to anchor him. Nothing to help him relieve the stress of teachers demanding too much or not enough; or from those teachers who tested him too much, or tried to mold him, to get him to conform.

Naomi had listened to that therapist and immediately removed Blair from school to begin a three year journey with her son, an odyssey that took them all over the world.

As she watched her son in those years, watched him develop a fascination for Sir Richard Burton; the explorer, not the actor, she'd prayed that she'd made the right decision. But the panic attacks continued and settling down seemed the only answer.

Blair was almost sixteen when they came back to the states. Was already looking at universities, anthropology departments in particular, and talking non-stop about Rainier.

The decision became simple; they moved to Cascade.

But Naomi hadn't been able to settle down.

Feeling penned in, she'd slowly started dying, a little bit every day, so she'd started taking little trips, with Blair's encouragment.

But gradually the trips became more involved, she stayed away longer. As the years flew by, she and her son grew apart as she allowed months to pass without a word to her son. But no matter where in the world she might find herself, she'd find a letter from her son.

Naomi came back to the present and pulled back a bit. Searching his face, she asked, "I know I wasn't always there for you, Blair, but you never doubted my love, did you?"

He smiled gently as he nodded. "Mom, I always knew."

Naomi Sandburg felt a knot untie itself in her heart and she relaxed. He knew. And Blair had finally found that anchor - in Jim Ellison.

And just maybe, Naomi Sandburg had finally found what she'd been looking for all these years. She stood, smoothed down her skirt and said,"I think we'd better join our guys, don't you?"

Blair arched one eyebrow at her choice of words, but stood, chuckling. "Mom, you're impossible."

"And you wouldn't have me any other way."

Just before they walked back out, Blair asked, "Mom, are you serious about Simon? Because, man, he's a goner."

"Yes, honey, I'm serious."

"Good. I've been hoping since I introduced you two...."

"Blair Sandburg, you're impossible."

"Now, mom, you know you wouldn't have me any other way."

The aroma of Jim's special spaghetti sauce filled the loft and Naomi headed straight to the kitchen for a taste as Blair made a quick detour into the bathroom to give his back the once-over.

He closed the door and thanked the Anal Retentive Gods for creating a man who firmly believed in the concept of a place for everything and everything in its place because he was able to open the correct drawer and put his hands on the tube of analgesic cream. In almost any other home, someone would have been screaming, "Honey? Where did you put the stuff for my back?"

The only thing missing in this home were the actual tracings of each product so that it could be put back in the exact same spot.

Blair glanced at himself in the mirror and shrugged. Now for the hard part. Getting his sweatshirt up and his body twisted enough so that he could see what he was doing in the mirror.

He was in the middle of the daunting task when the door opened and Mr. Everything In Its Place Ellison asked, "Need help?"

Shocked, Blair turned abruptly, his hand squeezing the tube in surprise and a huge white glob squirted out to land on the front of Jim's shirt.

"Uh, no, not really."

Ellison glanced down at his shirt and grinned. It matched the rest of the bathroom quite nicely, since there were globs on the sink, the floor, on Blair's sweatshirt. Hell, there was even a glob on the wall behind Sandburg. In fact, the only place that seemed untouched by the stuff was Blair's back.

Moving up behind his partner, Jim took the tube from Blair's hand, squirted some into his palm, worked it a bit to warm it up and while Blair held the shirt up, started to gently massage it into the bruised, sore skin.

"Oh, yeah, I can see you don't need any help, Chief," he just managed not to snort, " but I was the proverbial fifth wheel out there. I needed an escape route and you won."

"Gee, I'm honored."

Jim continued to his careful massage, treading gently as sentinel fingers moved around the large bruise taking shape on Blair's left side.

"You're gonna feel this tomorrow, Chief. Nice bruise too."

"I feel it now and I'm so glad you like it. Nicely mottled yet?"

"No, but well on its way."

For a few minutes, both men were silent as Jim worked his miracle on Blair's back. But finally, the gel was in and Jim gently took the shirt hem from Blair's fingers and lowered it. He put the cap back on, wiped his fingers and said, "There, how does that feel?"

Blair had long since stopped thinking about his back except in terms of how good Jim's hands felt on his skin. But they weren't done yet because Blair had to talk about it, the kiss

"Um, Jim? Are we going to talk about it?"

"Hey, if your mom and Simon want to kiss, that's their business."

With that, Jim walked out of the bathroom, leaving a very confused Blair behind.

Dinner turned out to be a very pleasant experience, considering that it involved four supposedly grown-up individuals trying studiously to avoid any topic that might lead to any discussion about the events of the afternoon.

However - body language managed to expose a great deal.

At every opportunity, Simon touched Naomi, served her and gazed adoringly into her eyes.

At every opportunity, Jim touched Blair, served him and gazed lovingly into his eyes.

Naomi returned every adoring glance with matched adoration.

Blair was still confused.

The meal wound down and as Jim got up to pull the dessert from the refridgerator, he tossed out a question aimed at Naomi.

"Don't you think it's time to tell us about this book?"

Naomi glanced around the table and saw the sparked interest in Simon's eyes and the excitement in Blair's. She smiled slyly. As Jim placed the bowls of Spumoni on the table and everyone dug in, Naomi asked a question of her own.

"Well, why don't you try to guess the topic?"

"Easy, Naomi. A book on meditation," Jim guessed.

But Simon countered with, "No way. It's a tell-all book about the sixties."

Jim pointed his spumoni laden spoon at Simon in a gesture saying, Got it in one.

Blair was still confused.

"It's a childrens book," she said simply.

Three voices simultaneously sputtered, "A childrens book?"

"Yes. About a very brave little boy," Naomi looked at her son, pride evident in her eyes, "who dared to be different. He lives in a city where being different is a very bad thing. When all the other adults and children realize that he is strange, they try to change him, to make him conform. But by the end of the story, he has changed them and the city."

She picked up her coffee, took a sip, giving the men a chance to recoup, then added, "Doubleday loved it, bought it for an obscene abount of money and I'll be serializing it. Eventually, the little boy will conquer the world and succeed in teaching everyone that they should celebrate their differences, cherish their simularities and love the individual."

Jim recovered first. "Naomi, that sounds - beautiful. I'd love to read it."

"Thank you, Jim." She glanced at her son again and added, "I was truly inspired." She stood quickly, seeing the flush begin on her son's neck and the strange expression in Simon's eyes. "I think it's time to clean up."

The kitchen was clean, the table cleared and Naomi and Simon had decided to take a walk.

Jim tossed the sponge in the corner, turned out the light and walked into the living room.

Blair was sitting on the chair, watching him with narrowed eyes.

Jim knew he was in for it now. He sighed. Sat down, rested his head back and closed his eyes. And waited for the barrage of questions.

Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes.

Blair was staring at him. Expectantly.

Jim decided to ignore him.

Five minutes later, Jim knew Blair was still staring. And waiting.

The fact was that Blair Sandburg was younger.

He could outlast Jim.

Jim sighed again and opened his eyes. "I don't know why, Chief. Okay?"

Nothing. Just that - steely blue gaze.

"Blair, it just happened. I mean, I know why I patted your butt. You both looked so --- and I had no explanation for the kiss, so I just decided to give you both something to think about. And later, when we got the shirt off, and you looked so damn....Well, damn it, Sandburg, in for a penny, in for a pound, you know?"

Blair's voice was deceptively quiet as he repeated, "In for a penny? That's what this was?" When he got a shrug from Jim, he stood, his expression unreadable, even to Jim.

"Fine. I get it. Familiarity. Nothing more. Maybe anger at Naomi. Fine, got it. No problem." He started towards his room. "Make my apologies to Simon, okay? My back is killing me and I'll sleep in my room til mom goes to bed, then I'll move out here."

He walked a bit unsteadily, holding in his hurt, disappointment and anger, but as he passed Jim, the older man stood and placing a hand on Blair's back, said, "Wait. Please."

He moved up behind Blair and slipped his arms around his partner's chest. Blair stiffened but as Jim lowered his face and his breath brushed Blair's neck, he found himself almost relaxing into the embrace. But he caught himself and was about to pull away when Jim whispered, "Blair, what I meant to say was that I don't know why I chose today to let you know how I feel. It just seemed - so right. Do you understand?"

Blair relaxed andmelted into the tall, warm mass behind him, the words acting as a salve to his soul. He turned in Jim's arms and started to speak, but Jim was much quicker and Blair was caught in a searing kiss.

So different. This kissing a man. Equal power, equal strength, hard muscles, and it felt - right, perfect, where he belonged.

The kiss was escalating and Jim's hands seemed to be everywhere, his body grinding into Blair's and he was almost dizzy with the heat and the need.

But at some point - the tables turned. Suddenly, it was Blair kissing Jim.

And Jim could do nothing more than hold on.

To Blair.

Menthol, toothpaste, pears, shampoo, tomatoes, basil, aftershave, sweat, all the scents and tastes associated with Blair were currently overpowering Jim. And he had no intention of stopping them.

It was staggering, how all his senses worked together to taste Blair Sandburg. It was the piggy-backing of all piggy-backs and Jim Ellison was drowning in it. Deliciously, consciously and willingly drowning in Blair.

No life preservers, please.

Who coined the phrase, "Silver-tongued devil"? Make it velvet-tongued and it would apply to Sandburg.

Blair kissed with the same single-minded devotion that he applied to any problem. He manuevered Jim's head, his mouth, his body. He controlled Jim's hands, his breathing, every minute detail and Jim had never been happier.

Surrender was - good.

Jim moaned into Blair's mouth and felt the answering smile.

Blair ended the kiss and with a devilish grin, said, "God, I'm good."

Licking his lips for a last taste of the humble man standing before him, Jim nodded. "Modest too."

Jim's smokey eyes promised more and unconsciously, Blair pressed in closer. Jim lowered his head and two mouths were about to meet again, but the front door opened and once again - Naomi and Simon interrupted the action. This time there was no rushed parting, no clumsy attempt at explaining. The two men simply stepped slightly apart and looked sheepishly at each other.

Jim watched his friend, his boss step in behind Naomi, observed the smitten expression and smiled. Then the smile died. Naomi - staying here. Overnight. Shit.

He was concentrating so hard on the thought of how he was going to manage not to attack the man in front of him, while said man's mother slept under him, that he almost missed Naomi's words....

"Blair, honey, do you mind if I don't stay here for the night?"

Blair didn't miss the cheshire cat-like grin on her face.

Jim started mentally doing high-fives with himself.

"Mom, you can't be serious! I'm not going to let you stay in a hotel. Absolutely not."

Jim missed one high-five and mentally slammed into a wall.

"Oh, I'm not dear. Simon has sugggested that I stay with him tonight. Then we'll all go to the airport together."

Jim was up and running again, doing a little mental end-run happy dance this time.

"In fact, sweetie, Simon and I thought we'd head out now. We're both pretty - tired."

Jim Jr. started his own version of the happy dance.

"Jim, I trust that you'll take care of my son? Make sure he gets his rest? That he doesn't - strain himself?" Her grin was downright wicked and not in the least motherly.

Jim saluted and snapped out a crisp, "Yes, ma'am."

Hugs and kisses followed, as well as quick plans for meeting up for an early breakfast before the airport.

And finally - the two men were alone.

Blair turned from the door and looked up at Jim. "So."

Jim smiled from the bottom step of the stairs.

"So."

Blair gave a little bounce on the tips of his toes, then back down and rubbed his hands together. "So," he repeated.

"I think your mother is right. You need a good nights sleep. In our bed. In my arms."

"Well, I've always believed that mother knows best."

"I hear that."

Epilogue:

Jim was used to waking up alone. To solitude. To white noise generators. To emptiness. He'd never liked it, but he was used to it. Painfully used to it.

But this morning - a warm, solid, muscular body was tangled around him like a soft, favorite blanket on a cold winter's morning. He looked down and saw the curly hair spread out over his chest, an arm draped possessively across the same chest and one leg hooked over his. He'd never felt so good. And he had no intention of ever waking without this exact warm, muscular body next to him, on top of him, over him and under him.

For Blair, waking up was very different. And while he might be said, in recent days, to have more experience waking with another body next to his, those bodies were definitely not hard. Anywhere. This body was. Most definitely hard.

And damn, it felt good. Comfortable. A strong heart beating beneath his cheek....and a strong hardness bumping up against his own morning erection.

"You shouldn't feel this comfortable, Jim."

"Fine. Let's trade. I bet that furry chest of yours would make a great pillow."

Blair started to move, chuckling as he did, and Jim changed his mind. "Wait, I like you right where you are. Stay put."

"Jim, this isn't your truck."

"You got objections to staying put?"

"Me? Hey, no. You know I don't play the hero. I'm staying right here. Scratchy cheek and all."

Jim ran one finger lovingly over the wiry stubble covering Blair's left cheek and whispered out huskily, "Sounds kinky, Chief."

Blair lifted his head and Jim had a clear path to that mouth. He glided in.

God, he loved this man.

They pulled away, a bit breathless and Jim tightened his grip around Blair.

"Ow!"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, Chief. I forgot all about your back. Guess I got a little - possessive there."

"It's okay, Jim, relax. I'm still amazed at what we were able to do last night in spite of a sore back."

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, we pretty inventive, considering we were re-inventing the wheel, so to speak."

He gently pulled Blair up to him and in a low and husky voice, said "Take warning here. When your back is better...."

Blair laughed. "I'm holding you to that."

Jim's answer was a low growl.

"Uh, Jim? Is that your Jungle Jim voice?"

"No. Me, Tarzan - You..."

"Say it and you're a dead man, Ellison."

"Right. You're way too furry. Me, Tarzan - You, Cheetah."

"Jim, you know those plans you have for when I'm up to speed?"

"Yes, Cheetah?"

"Down the drain. Ungowah!"

"Okay - me, Tarzan, you ---- ."

"You, Tarzan, me, anthropologist. Me study Tarzan. Me study how big body have such a small brain. Me study Tarzan's body from head to toe - me dedicated scientist."

"Anthropologist will pay for small brain remark, but Tarzan looks forward to the in-depth study."

"Jim, did I mention last night that I love you?"

"Several times, usually followed by groaning and moaning and gasping out how terrific I was and that you'd never had better. Um, did I ---."

"Um, yes, between moans and groans and saying things like you'd never had better and that you'd never suspected a guy so short could have such a big ----."

"That would be mouth, Chief."

Blair laughed outright and decided on one more dig. "So, Jim, you gonna be able to handle Naomi as a mother-in-law?"

"Blair, it's not Naomi I'm worried about. It's the thought of having Simon as a father-in-law."

End