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Epiphany

Summary:

A rambling tale, wherein Blair goes (briefly) to jail, and Jim makes a pleasant discovery.

Work Text:

Epiphany

by Blankety

Pet Fly and Paramount own these characters, and I do not. Make of that what you wish.

Always always, for Aly Aly. ^___^

I stole the bit about the fire exit from a Mitch Hedwig comedy routine. Everything else is mine.


Ring. Ring.

Jim Ellison flailed his way awake, ripping off his sleep mask and flinging it violently away. "Goddammit to hell!" Whoever was calling him at -three in the goddamn morning!-- better have a good reason. He picked up the phone and snarled, "Ellison!"

There was a moment of silence, and then he heard, "Oh, hey, Jim."

"Sandburg? Is that you?" Jim extended his hearing throughout the loft. No heartbeat, no Sandburg. "Where are you? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"Well, that's the thing. You se-"

"You're not drunk, are you? Because I don't give a flying fuck how drunk you are, you can damn well-"

"I'm not drunk."

"-spend the night of the floor of whatever floozy you're seeing! I can't believe-"

"I said I'm not drunk!"

"-you have the balls to call me, wake me up, and just expect me to-"

"Dammit, Jim, I'm in jail!"

"-drop everything and pick you- what?"

"I said, I'm in jail."

Jim sat up in bed and ran his hand over his head. "Sandburg, I swear, if this is some kind of joke-"

"It's not a joke. I've been arrested, I'm at the 15th Precinct, this is my one phone call."

"You're at the one-five?"

Blair sighed. "Yeah, I'm at the 'one-five'. I'm sorry I'm not up on the correct police nicknames, but could you come get me anyway?"

"What were you arrested for?" Jim got out of bed, held the phone to his shoulder with his head, and started getting dressed.

"Um, creating a disturbance, public nuisance, failure to obey a fire marshal, and creating a hazard to public safety."

Jim took the phone from his ear and stared at it, as if somehow he could see Blair's face through the phone. He shrugged, and put the phone back to his ear. "Pretty impressive, Dillinger."

"Oh. And, um, assault."

"What? Sandburg, what the hell were you doing? Those others are misdemeanors and can mean pretty much anything, but assault..." Jim trailed off, unable to connect 'Sandburg' and 'assault' in his mind.

"Man, they're totally bogus! I didn't do anything!"

"Sandburg, we don't charge people with assault on a whim! What the hell did you do?" Now fully dressed, Jim sat down on the bed.

"Well, I kind of hit a security guard. In the nuts. With my laptop."

Jim closed his eyes. "That's not exactly 'nothing', Chief."

"But I didn't do anything!"

"Look, just tell me what happened, okay? From the beginning."

"Okay, but they're getting a little...impatient here. I'll have to make it quick."

"Whatever. Just tell me. Preferably before I grow old and die here."

"Oh, ha ha, Jim. So. I was at the casino, and-"

"What were you doing at the casino?"

"Jim, this will go a lot faster if you don't interrupt me."

"Sorry."

Yeah, yeah. So, I'm at the casino, leaning against a doorway, watching people play slots. Then this security guard says I have to move. And I say 'why' and he says 'because you're blocking a fire exit' and I laugh at him."

"Why?"

"Jim! I'm a person! With legs! I'm mobile, for God's sake! How can I block a fire exit? What? He thinks I see a fire, I'm not going to go through the door? I'm going to wedge myself in and not let people through? The whole thing was imbecilic!"

"And I suppose you told the guard that?"

"Well, yeah. But really, Jim!"

"I know, I know. Then what happened? Because I haven't heard anything that sounds like assault yet."

"Well, the guard told me that he didn't like my attitude, and that I'd have to move. He called me a 'wiseacre', Jim! A wiseacre! Who the hell uses that word nowadays?"

"Chief..." Jim let a threatening note enter his tone as he went down the stairs to get his jacket and truck keys.

"Okay, okay! But it's a stupid word! So, anyway, he's telling me to leave, and I won't because it's stupid, and then he's grabbing me and yelling at me, and the other guards are coming over, and he's pulling me away from the door by my arm, and I'm like 'let go of my arm!' and he pulls harder and sort of swings me around, and that make my backpack slide down my other arm, and it hits him in the nuts and he squeals like a girl and falls down, and the other guards knock me down and sit on me, and I get arrested."

Jim shook his head. Only Sandburg. "You okay, Chief?"

"Well, I'm pissed as shit, but besides that-"

"Just sit tight, okay? I'm on my way, I should be there in about 20 minutes."

"Thanks, man! I really appreciate this, Jim, really."

"Yeah, fine. Just try not to start a riot before I get there."

"You are such an ass, Ellison."

Jim grinned. "Yeah, but I'm an ass with bail money. So don't piss me off." He hung up on Blair, tossed the phone on the couch, and went out to retrieve Sandburg.


Jim looked across the desk at Precinct Captain Charles Kowalski, who was looking at Jim with a measure of disappointment on his face. "Let me get this straight, Detective Ellison. You're asking me to let a prisoner go, a prisoner that was arrested with due cause and process, and just let him go free because he happens to be attached to Major Crimes? Just sweep it all under the rug, like it never happened?"

Jim clenched his jaw and tried to reign in his temper. "No, Sir! That's not what I'm saying at all!" He unclenched his fists and leaned forward. "Look. We both know the DA is going to dismiss the misdemeanors. They're nothing. I mean, 'failure to obey a fire marshal'?" Jim was obviously incredulous, and after a minute Kowalski reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"So that leaves only the assault charge, And once the DA reviews the casino's security tape, she'll see that Sandburg is telling the truth, and that charge will be dropped as well." Jim took a deep breath, calming himself. "So what I'm asking for, as a favor to a fellow officer, is for you to release Sandburg into my custody. Not to drop the charges, not to hide anything. Just let me take him home. I give you my personal guarantee that Sandburg will be available to the department and the DA at any time you name."

Kowalski regarded Jim for a long moment, hands steepled in front of him. "How do you know there's a security tape?"

Jim shrugged. "It's a casino. It's taped six ways from Sunday."

"And how do you know Sandburg's telling you the truth?"

"You've seen him?" At Kowalski's nod, Jim continued, "Well, there you go. Assault? Besides, he doesn't lie about things like that."

For the first time, a slight smile crossed Kowalski's face. "What kind of things does he lie about?"

"The usual. 'You look great in that dress!', 'Of course I love you!'. Things like that."

Kowalski's smile grew to a grin. "Oh, what the hell. He's in holding. I'll have Officer Siler take you down."

Jim stood up and shook Kowalski's hand. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much. You won't regret it."

Kowalski pinned Jim with a steely glare. "See that I don't, Detective. If you give me even the slightest reason to regret this, I won't stop until I have your badge. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir, we are. And you won't have cause, Sir. I promise."

Kowalski nodded. He leaned over to his intercom. "Siler? Come in here and escort Detective Ellison to holding. We're going to release Sandburg into his custody."


As he exited the elevator behind Siler, Jim extended his hearing, searching for Blair. There! There was the familiar heartbeat. But it was a little too rapid for Jim's liking. He focused in on what Blair was saying.

"...in the classical sense. But throughout the centuries, 'tool' has been a common euphemism for the penis. Why? Who knows? Perhaps one explanation could be that man uses it to 'build' the most important object of all -- another man." Blair paused, and Jim could hear him swallow noisily, as if nervous. "Graphically speaking, however, that's as...interesting.. a representation as I have ever come across. The detail work alone..."

Jim snapped his attention back to Siler. "Who the hell is in with him, anyway?"

Siler shrugged. "The usual, this time of night. Drunks. A junkie. Brawlers. A pimp."

"Great, just great," Jim muttered under his breath. He quickened his steps, forcing Siler to trot to keep up with him.

At the end of the hallway, Jim waited impatiently for Siler to punch in the code for the security door. Jim shoved his way through before it was completely open, heading unerringly for the holding cell.

Most of the occupants were asleep on the bench or the floor. Blair, however, was backed into a corner by a greasy-looking man wearing leather pants. The man had one arm on the wall next to Blair's head, and he was leaning in, talking quietly. His other hand was in his unzipped pants, holding his semi-erect penis out towards Blair. Jim saw red.

He kicked the bars of the cell, making everyone jump. Jim was savagely pleased to see Penis Man deflate before his eyes. "Time to go, Chief."

Siler opened the cell door, and Blair slid by Penis Man, running for Jim. "Oh, Pooky! I knew you'd come for me!"

Before Jim had time to process 'pooky', Blair flung himself at Jim, throwing his arms around his neck and diving in for a kiss. A deep, hot kiss. A kiss with tongue.

Jim was drowning in a sea of raw sensation. Blair's tongue, hot and wet and agile in his mouth. Blair's taste, musky and spicy and never to be forgotten. Blair's body, pressed tightly against his, burning like a brand. As Blair ended the kiss and pulled away, Jim had no awareness of anything but the sapphire glow of Blair's anxious eyes.

Jim blinked. Anxious? He blinked again, and suddenly the world snapped back into focus. He could hear Siler telling Penis Man to 'put that nasty thing away', and he could smell the fear drifting off Blair. Jim became aware that Blair was making slight jerking motions with his head, pointing it at Penis Man.

Oh! Jim suddenly understood. He took a deep breath to make himself look even larger, and pulled Blair into his side. He deepened his voice as low as he could and said, "You okay, baby? Those guys didn't bother you any, did they?" Jim shot a glare that would burn steel into the holding cell. Everyone who was still awake took a nervous step back.

Jim could feel Blair melt against his side, relaxing now that Jim was playing along. "No, Pooky, no. They just talked to me. That's all, really."

Jim sent another glare into the cell. "That's all they better have done," he growled, privately wondering what it was about him that Blair thought to be 'pooky' material. He put his hand on Blair's neck and steered him towards the door. "Let's go home, baby."

As soon as the security door closed behind them, Blair pulled away from Jim. "Thank you, thank you! You saved my life, man! That was so not my scene!" He turned to Siler. "That leather guy, he was-"

Siler just shook his head. "Like I care. Once you guys make Detective, you're all fucking crazy."


Once he had Blair safely seat-belted in the truck, Jim finally released some of the tension that had coiled within him when he heard the words 'I'm in jail'. He glanced over at Blair, who was slumped against the door.

"Hey, Chief," he said, negotiating the turn on to Davis Street, "What was the deal with Penis Man, anyway?"

Blair's eyes snapped open and he turned his head to face Jim. "What? Oh, him! Oh, man!" Blair grinned thinking about it, his expression an odd mixture of horror, amusement, and awe. "That was just wild!"

"What was? And why were his pants open?"

Blair snorted. "He was showing me his tattoo."

Jim looked at Blair, startled, and then snapped his eyes back to the road. "You mean, he had a tattoo on his-"

"Yeah, on his dick." Blair started giggling.

Jim, torn between revulsion and curiosity, slowly asked, "What was it?"

Blair just laughed harder. Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, he said, "You just will not believe it!"

Jim waited, but Blair was laughing again. "Well?"

"It was." Snort. "It was a drill."

"A drill?"

"Yeah, he's got a drill, a regular Black and Decker, tattooed on his dick!" Blair waved a hand at Jim. "But wait, wait! This is the best part! On the last few inches, up by the head? That's where the drill bit is!"

"The bit?"

"Yeah! So just picture it. There's our boy, getting a little excited. His dick starts rising to attention." Blair paused to make a pumping gesture with his fist. "Vrrrrr! Vrrrrr! I'm going to drill you good, baby!" He collapsed against the door, laughing wildly.

Jim was hard-pressed not to laugh as well. His mouth twitched. "That's...that's just sad, Chief."

"Tell me about it! Can you imagine the look on some poor girl's face when he whips out--" Blair snorted again. "He whips out his equipment?"

This time, Jim didn't hold back his laughter, and Blair joined him. When they finally calmed down, Jim asked, "Don't you think that would hurt like a mother?"

Blair winced. "I don't want to think about it! Just looking at it made my boys try to climb back inside!"

Jim nodded in agreement. Then a stray thought struck him. "Hey. Why was he showing you his dick in the first place?"

Blair looked wryly amused. "Apparently, it was part of his incentive plan."

"What?"

"He was offering me a job. Blair Sandburg, Boy Hooker." He laughed. "He thought I had the looks for playing underage meat. 'Jailbait, baby. With the right clothes, you'd be pure jailbait'."

Jim's hands locked on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles whitened. "That's not funny, Sandburg."

Blair looked over at Jim's tightly-clenched jaw and raised an eyebrow. "Chill out, Jim. I wasn't there long enough to become anyone's bitch."

"Sandburg!"

Blair put a calming hand on Jim's thigh. "Jim. It's okay. Nothing happened. You came and got me, just like I knew you would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just relax. Everything's cool." He patted Jim twice, leaned back into the corner of the truck, and closed his eyes. "We home yet?" he asked, yawning.

"Another five minutes, Chief."

Blair nodded. "Good. I'm tired."

The rest of the ride home was silent. Blair dozed lightly, and Jim drove almost on auto-pilot, thinking about Blair and musk and penises and sweet, stolen kisses.


Jim leaned his head into the couch as he heard Blair enter the building three floors below. A week had passed since he had retrieved Blair from jail, and he was still oddly aware of Blair's presense.

The kiss. It always came back to that one kiss. He lifted his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes. Here in the loft, with Blair's scent all around him, Jim could bring back the memory so clearly, it was almost as if Blair were right there, kissing him again, warm and vibrant and alive in his arms- Jim jumped guiltily as Blair opened the front door.

Blair slung his backpack in the general direction of his room and headed toward the kitchen. "Hey, Jim. How's it going?" He opened the refrigerator. "Want a beer?"

Jim shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, thanks." He smiled suddenly, remembering what Simon had told him. "Guess what, Chief. I've got great news."

Blair sat down next to him and passed over a beer. "Yeah? What news?"

"Simon called. The DA dropped all the charges against you."

"Really?" Blair waited for Jim's confirming nod, and then broke out into a huge grin. "Well, all right! Hooray for me, man!" He and Jim clinked bottles and each took a celebratory swig of beer.

Blair wiped his hand across his mouth. "So what happened?"

"Just what I thought. The DA took one look at the security tape and laughed her ass off. I saw it, too, Chief. There's no possible way you hit that guy on purpose."

"So that's it?"

"Well, the casino was a little pissy about it, and they could have got you on the fire marshal thing, if they'd pressed it. But Simon started making noises about 'wrongful arrest' and poof! Problem solved."

"Well, hot damn! Let's hear it for Simon!" They clinked bottles once again, and after another healthy swallow, Blair said, "What do you say we go celebrate, now that I'm an innocent man?"

"I've got news for you, Chief: you've never been an innocent man."

Blair stood up, flipped Jim off, and went into his room. "No, I mean it, Jim," he said while looking through his shirts. "You want to go out? Pepitos has a two-for-one margarita special tonight, and I know you love their nachos."

He pulled a clean shirt over his head and walked back to the living room, still talking. "So what do you say? The first round's on me even, seeing as how I'm the- well, fuck."

Blair looked at Jim, who was sitting on the couch, head turned towards Blair's room, eyes wide and vacant and zoned. Hell. Blair stood next to Jim and waved his hand in front of his face. "You with me, big guy?" No response. Blair turned his head to follow Jim's line-of-sight. What the hell was he zoning on?

Sighing, Blair crouched down and put his hands on Jim's knees, rubbing them lightly. "Hey, Jim. Come on back, okay? I'm sure whatever you're zoning on is fascinating, but it's not good for you. Come on, I really will buy the first round, and you don't want to miss that, so just bring yourself out of the zone, and we'll-"

Blair paused as he felt a shudder run through Jim's body. He looked up and met Jim's now-aware eyes. He smiled and patted Jim on the leg. "Well, there you go. Just a little mini-zone." He stood up and stretched. "Mind telling me what you were zoning on?"

Jim just looked up at him, blinking, and didn't say a word. Blair frowned. "Jim, we've been through this. You have to tell me what you zone on, or I won't be able to help you."

Jim just continued to stare at Blair, a slight flush on his face. Blair threw up his hands. "Fine! Don't tell me! Just go on your own macho Jim Ellison way, and the next time you zone and there's a truck coming, just wait and see if-"

"Your ass."

"-I save you! I'll let the damn truck-" Blair stopped talking and blinked twice. He coughed. "Um, excuse me. Did you say 'your ass'?"

"Yeah."

"Meaning my ass?"

"Yeah."

"My ass. You were zoning on my ass?"

"Yeah, Sandburg, your ass. You see any other asses around here?" Blair opened his mouth, and Jim pointed a finger at him, shaking his head. "Don't even think about saying it."

"Come on, man, you left yourself wide open."

"Sandburg!"

Blair raised his hands. "All right, all right! I won't say it." He sat in the chair next to the couch and looked at Jim. "But you know I'm thinking it."

Jim leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Whatever."

Blair coughed again, and Jim opened his eyes enough to look at Blair through lowered lids. Blair said, "So. Um, so. Are we going to talk about this 'zone/ass' thing?"

Jim sat up and scrubbed his hands across his face. He sighed. "Sandburg, have you ever had an epiphany?"

"An epiphany?"

"Yeah. An intuitive grasp of reality brought on by a simple and striking event."

Blair narrowed his eyes. "You memorized that from the dictionary!"

"I'm not stupid, Sandburg! I know what epiphany means!"

"I'm not saying you're stupid. I'm just saying you memorized that definition. If you were telling me in your own words, you'd say something like 'something weird happens, and it changes everything'."

"What's your point?"

"I don't have a point. I just want you to know that I know." He shrugged at Jim's amazed look. "What?"

Jim slowly shook his head. "You're a real piece of work there, Sandburg."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So you had an epiphany?"

"Yeah, I did."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what was it! What caused it? What was the 'simple and striking' event?"

"You kissed me. In the jail," Jim added, as Blair just stared at him.

Blair opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but didn't speak. Finally, he said, "I kissed you?"

"Yeah."

"My kiss was the 'simple and striking event' that caused your epiphany?"

Jim nodded, and Blair frowned. "But, Jim. I've kissed you before."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but that was just on the head, when I was bleeding or something. This was different." He sighed happily. "This was on the mouth. With tongue."

Blair eyed Jim warily. "Okay, fine. So my kiss caused your epiphany. So what was it?"

"What was what?"

"Your epiphany! What was your epiphany! Come on, Jim! Stop fucking around here!"

"Well, you're just so easy, Sandburg. I can't help it." Jim raised a hand to ward off Blair's icy glare. "Sorry. But, you see, the kiss made me realize it was...right."

"What was right?"

"The kiss. Everything. You and me, the whole enchilada. It was right."

"And we weren't 'right' before?"

"No! Well, we were, but that was just you and me." Jim waved his hands in different directions. "This was you AND me, together."

Blair frowned. "You and me, together. You mean, like together together? That's what's right?"

"Exactly!"

"I really want to be clear here, Jim. What exactly do you mean by 'together'?"

Jim sighed. "Christ, Sandburg! You know- together!" He made a suggestive hand gesture.

Blair raised an eyebrow. "You mean like boyfriend-boyfriend?"

"Well, yeah, not that I would say it that way. I mean, ick, Sandburg! But yeah, that's how I mean it."

"So you mean together in a sexual-"

Jim raised a hand, interrupting Blair. "Chief! Enough! I'm damn sure I want you, and I know that I love you, and you'd better not ever leave, so what more do you need to know?" He paused, looking concerned. "Well, maybe this isn't something you want. But don't worry. I promise, Chief, I won't act on it, but I just thought you had the right to- ooof!"

Jim was silenced as Blair launched himself out of the chair and into Jim, knocking him over the couch's arm and on to the floor. Blair straddled Jim's hips and began nuzzling his neck.

After a startled moment, Jim raised his hands and buried them deep into Blair's hair. "Well, I'm guessing this is not going to be a problem for you."

Blair lifted his head, kissed the tip of Jim's nose, and smiled. "Good work, Detective." He grabbed Jim's shirt and pulled, sending buttons skittering all over the floor. He ran his hands gently, almost reverently, over the planes of Jim's chest, muttering 'mineminemine' under his breath.

Jim arched into the caress, eyelids fluttering shut. "Why isn't it a problem, though?" His breath caught as Blair trailed a fingernail over his nipple. "Not that I'm complaining!"

Blair looked distracted. "Well, I had my own epiphany a while ago, man." He leaned in and captured a nipple with his mouth, sucking gently, making Jim shiver with need. While Jim could still think, he lifted Blair's head and gazed into his passion-drenched eyes. "When? When did you know, Blair?"

Blair snarled, but he leaned back to answer the question, grinding his hips against Jim's as he did so. "Does 'neo-hippy witch doctor punk' ring any bells?" He thrust into Jim again, immensely gratified at the panting moan ripped from Jim's throat.

Blair leaned back in towards Jim, but was stopped as Jim gripped his arms, holding him away. Jim shook him a slight bit. "Jesus, Blair! Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Blair shrugged. If Jim wouldn't let him near his chest, there were other avenues to explore. He started to undo Jim's belt. "Well, you were already threatening to take me in on a drug charge. I didn't think throwing solicitation into the mix was a good idea." With a flourish, he pulled Jim's belt from his pants and threw it across the loft.

"But Blair! All that time! And you never said anything! My God, I can't-" He stopped talking as Blair gave up his struggles with Jim's pants and placed his hand over Jim's mouth.

"Jim, shhh. It's okay. I waited for you. I would have waited forever." Blair smiled, and Jim was blinded by the intensity of the love shining from his eyes. "You're worth it, man. You are so worth it."

Jim slowly slid his hands up Blair's arms until he cupped his head in his palms. "Blair, Blair. I...I don't know what to say."

Blair growled and tugged at Jim's pants. "You don't need to say anything, idiot. What you need is to get out of these pants!" He pulled again, emphasizing his words, and Jim obligingly lifted his hips. With a satisfied noise, Blair pulled both pants and boxers smoothly down Jim's legs, only to have them get caught by his shoes. Blair muttered to himself as he pulled futilely at the trapped clothes.

Jim raised himself on his elbows to watch, and then laughed out loud. "A little anxious there, Chief?" Blair raised his head to look hard at Jim. His face was flushed and feral and a little bit wild. Jim felt the laughter burn out of him as a wave of need scorched through his body, making him tremble.

Blair hissed, "I said you were worth waiting for. I didn't say I was going to wait any more!" He lifted himself off Jim only as long as it took for him to pull off his shirts, and to push his jeans down to his knees. He threw himself at Jim, their mouths meeting in a soaring, soul-destroying kiss.

Jim felt as if he were on fire; as if he were being tempered and transmuted, transformed into a creature made real only by Blair's desire. He tangled his hands in Blair's hair and tightened his grip, sealing their bodies together.

The feel of Blair, the drag and pull of his chest hair, Blair's smell, rising hot and pungent between them, the small sounds of need Blair made deep in his throat, all these things merged and coiled and twisted within Jim, sending jolting sparks, fireworks of pleasure, through him, making him wanton and wicked.

Blair broke the kiss and drew air into laboring lungs. With a keening cry, he wrenched his body into Jim's, his erection sliding easily through moist hair, its heated length branding Jim, marking him and claiming him.

Jim choked out Blair's name through a throat thick with desire, and suddenly the sensations were not enough, they would never be enough. He clutched Blair against him and rolled. They became a single entity, a wild creature, twisting and writhing and biting and nipping.

They thrust against each other wildly, and with abandon. Blind to everything but their own need, they rolled and crashed, grabbed and thrust, touched and licked and suckled and caressed, until finally, pressed up under the bottom of the stairs, Jim made one last violent push against Blair and exploded into a burst of white-hot and sullen pleasure, covering both their chests in a burning rain, marking them, sealing their bond.

Jim fell back, boneless. Above him, he could vaguely hear Blair howling his completion, and then Blair was falling heavily against him, his sweat-soaked face nuzzling naturally into the curve of Jim's neck.

A long endless moment later, Blair lifted his head to gaze at Jim with awe-filled eyes. Jim raised a hand and gently ran a thumb over the vivid bite mark on Blair's collarbone. Jim breathed deeply, reveling in the scents that surrounded him. "Jesus God, Blair, what the hell was that?"

Blair slowly smiled, a drowsy smile full of joy and mischief and love. "Gee, Jim, I have no idea. What do you say we do it all over again? Maybe we'll figure it out?"

Jim smiled as well, sated and happy. "I don't know, Blair. That was mighty confusing. It could take us long time to figure it out."

"Days?"

"Weeks, even."

"Weeks?" Blair raised an eyebrow.

Jim nodded solemnly. "Maybe months."

"Or years, maybe?"

"Forever. It'll probably take forever."

"Forever? Really? Now that is something I can get behind."

Blair leaned down, Jim raised his head, and they met in a kiss that was as gentle as their other kisses had been wild, a kiss that spoke of love and contentment and commitment and forever.


End Epiphany by Blankety: [email protected]

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