Author's disclaimer: This story is in no way affiliated with UPN or Pet Fly Productions. The characters are their property, and this story is not meant to infringe upon their copyrights.
Author's notes: There is a spoiler at the end of the LAST part of this story that reveals info about this AU that may be disturbing to some. Please read that spoiler if you have any doubts about whether or not you want to venture into this AU.
Much thanks goes to Rie for betaing with an eagle-eye and to Jean for her help as well!
Choosing Love
By Myrna
Jim Ellison stood on his front porch and waited a good five minutes before pushing himself off of the post he was leaning on and turning toward the screen door. He'd followed the sound of Simon's departing auto as far as he could, then let another minute and a half pass just to be safe.
"Sandburg!" he barked as he marched inside, and both the decibel and the clip of his voice would have made his old drill sergeant proud.
"What?" Blair asked, hackles obviously raised by Jim's attitude.
"You have exactly," Jim made a big show of bringing up his wrist to look at his watch, "thirty seconds to get your naked ass into my bed!"
Blair cocked an eyebrow and pushed away from the table, a lopsided grin on his face. "Or what?"
"Or I will get you there myself." Jim knew his hardass tone was cancelled out by the idiotic grin on his face. He stripped off his t-shirt and advanced on Sandburg, who rolled further back from the table.
"But, but this is so sudden." Blair sounded a confused and a little frightened.
Jim leaned down, hands on either arm of the chair. He slowly pushed Blair backwards toward their bedroom. "Sudden?" Jim repeated. "This is four days, nine hours and 15 some odd minutes WAY overdue."
"You're such a spaz! You timed it, didn't you? You honest-to-God put your GI Joe watch to it."
"I want to hear less talk and see a lot more undressing, Chief." Jim lifted Blair onto the bed.
"You want," Blair scoffed. "Listen to you." Jim stripped off his jeans and boxers in a single motion, his penis already leaking and erect. Blair's pupils dilated. "Aw, look at you," he said, his voice deep and soft. "You look great, man."
Jim leaned down and kissed Blair open-mouthed, their tongues immediately entwining. "You feel so good." Still trading kisses with Blair, Jim helped him out of his sweats.
"Mmm, you too, man." Blair drew Jim closer, eyeing his penis with undisguised hunger. "All right, come to Papa now..."
"Uh uh." Jim shook his head and gently backed out of Blair's hold. "Last time you swallowed on antibiotics you puked for three days."
"I was allergic to the meds!"
"I don't care, it gave me a major complex."
"That lasted all of 15 minutes."
"Yeah, but it was the longest 15 minutes of my life."
Using pillows of various sizes, Jim positioned Blair on the bed, then jumped up on the mattress and straddled him, holding on to the bed's headboard to steady himself. Jim looked down and smiled as Blair coated his erection with lotion. "Easy there, tiger," Jim said. "It won't take much." Blair chuckled and tossed the lotion aside.
Grabbing hold of the headboard again, Jim bent his knees and edged forward, sliding his cock into the crook of Blair's arm. He shuddered as the soft hairs of Sandburg's armpit tickled his penis. "A bit tighter," he said, and Blair brought his arm in closer to his body.
"Mmm, feels good," Blair sighed, as Jim continued to move forward and back. "Harder now." Blair gazed up at Jim with dark intensity. Jim increased his tempo and the force of his thrusts and was rewarded when a cool, slick finger slid into his anus on the backward motion.
"Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Blair!" he cried when Blair's finger lit solidly into his prostate to produce an explosion of pleasure.
Blair held his arm in even closer to his side, and Jim groaned at the delicious pressure. "Oh yeah, like that," he said. "God you feel good. Missed feeling so close to you."
"Mm hmm," Blair agreed. "God, Jim, yeah, oh, man, that's so good."
"Won't last long," Jim warned, picking up his pace, the friction creating an almost painful heat where their skin rubbed together. The internal pressure built, waves of pleasure pushing him closer and closer until he came with a shout. He tightened his grip and stood up straight on shaky knees. The mattress quaked beneath him, and he and Blair chuckled at that.
His hands gently caressing Jim's hips and ass, Blair nuzzled into his lover's groin, licking the wetness still leaking from Jim's penis. He rubbed his cheek against the softening cock before placing soft kisses up and down it.
"Ah, you're so good to me," Jim whispered, "So good, so good to me."
"Love you," Blair sighed, hugging Jim's legs. Jim could feel his lover's strength waning, and he covertly backed off and began removing the pillows so he could help Blair lie down.
"Sorry." Blair's eyes fluttered closed.
So much for covert. "'S'okay," Jim said, kissing his cheek. He started to get out of bed, but Blair grabbed his arm.
"Nah, stay here."
"Can't." Jim kissed him again. "You know how much work there is to do when someone checks out of the Ellison/Sandburg Bed & Breakfast."
Blair smiled lazily. "You're such a spaz," he said fondly. "The work'll keep. Lie down."
"I want to get started on the deck before there's any more water damage."
Jim tried to remove his arm from Blair's clasp, but Blair held on tighter and pulled Jim down. "Stay here. I'll strip the bed and vacuum, and you can start on the deck. Supposed to rain again on Wednesday."
With a victorious chuckle, Jim gave up and settled on his side as close to Blair as he could get without lying on top of him.
"I was gonna play housekeeper anyway."
"Are you saying my ingenious plan to get you to do the cleaning was for nothing?"
Blair laughed. "Mmm, God, this is good." He rubbed the back of Jim head. "Feels so good."
Jim tucked his head up under Blair's chin, dropping a kiss on the soft, hairy chest before settling down. "Yeah, it does. It was nice to see Simon, though, wasn't it? Worth separate quarters for a few days, right?"
"It was great. I missed you though. Missed this." Blair shuddered as Jim fingered his nipple. "You think we really needed to bother? I mean, how can he not know? We showered together for Christ's sake."
Jim schooled his face into what he hoped was a look of profound innocence. "Well, yeah, but that's just Saint Jim helping out his poor, crippled buddy." Blair snorted at that, leaving Jim to shrug at the original question. "I don't know how he keeps missing it, but he doesn't know, that's for sure. He bounces up and down like a little kid when he's got a pair of tens. Believe me, we'd know if he suspected something."
Blair laughed at the image. "He's a lousy poker player, isn't he? The weird thing is, I've been in a meeting with him and the mayor and the police commissioner, and he's, like, this total rock-I mean, he doesn't give anything away."
"I think this is one of those cases of not seeing what you're not looking for. It never occurs to him that we could possibly be anything other than what he thinks we are."
"You think Joel will figure it out? Or Rafe and Henri?"
Jim lifted up to look down into Blair's eyes. "Would it really be that awful if they did? Eventually someone's gonna realize we've been living together for five then 10 then 15 then 20 years."
Blair smiled up at him. "Then 25, then 30, then 40, then 50."
They grinned inanely at one another for quite awhile until Blair pulled Jim down to lie once again on his chest. "You think we'll just go on, no one asking, us not telling, for-like-ever?"
Jim shrugged again. "I don't know. I thought this was settled...I'm not sending out engraved announcements, Sandburg, and you're the one who doesn't want anyone..."
"Come on, man," Blair whined. "I know exactly what they'd say-'Detective James J. Ellison, of Cascade Washington, is proud to announce that his dick is officially and permanently under the management of one Blair J. Sandburg, lover extraordinaire..."
Jim pinched Blair's nipple. "Extraordinaire? You get an extraordinaire, and I just get 'Detective'? I don't think so Ego Boy. And I want it to say, 'his gigantic dick.' 'His gigantic, super-colossal, mammoth-sized dick."
"Yeah, right-o, that's what it's gonna say."
"What makes you think Simon knows about us anyway?"
"I guess I don't," Blair said. "Not really. I'm pretty sure he'd say something about it if he did. But we were talking about something, I don't remember what exactly, but I was saying how at the hospital and in rehab, they were always going on about how what happened to me effects the whole family, but they never seemed to remember that you were my family. I said something, like, that you and I weren't anything official to one another, like, husband and wife I'm thinking to myself, and I just felt like I was drawing this huge picture for him with bright magic markers, you know?"
Jim laughed. "And still he didn't get it! I tell you, if you aren't looking for it, you aren't gonna see it."
Blair sighed as Jim nuzzled against his chest then settled down again. He petted Jim's hair and stroked his back and arm. Jim sighed too and could only shrug when Blair quietly asked, "Wonder why no one's ever looking for it?"
Sandburg made omelets for lunch, using up the last of the bacon in Jim's portion, earning him an energetic kiss as Jim sat down to eat. "I'm not gonna have enough stain to finish," Jim said around a mouthful of bagel. "I gotta pick up some lumber, too. Wanna ride into town with me?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah Drop me off at the library."
"The library?" Jim groaned. "Sandburg, I just want to run in, get my shit and get out."
"Jim, you have never, in your entire life, gone into a hardware store without someone putting your picture on a milk carton and announcing you MIA."
"Very funny. You go into the library, we might as well pitch a tent and stay the night."
"I just want to look for a couple of old books, all right? I tell you, small town libraries don't toss books out the way the metropolitan places do. No telling what treasures you can find."
"You say that every time we drive into town."
"And every time I find some cool old book," Blair reasoned.
"Yeah, eight hours later. Can't you just..."
Blair sharply looked up from his plate, but his voice remained even. "Jim, I'm going to the library while you go to the hardware store. When you're done, come find me, and we'll head home."
"Right, that's how it's gonna play out," Jim said, swiping his hand down the back of his neck. "Just come to the hardware with me this time, and later this week, we'll..."
"I'm not gonna have this conversation every fucking time I want to go somewhere, Jim. I'm not asking your permission."
"I never said you were. Can't I negotiate whether I spend the entire day..."
"No, it's not a negotiation. Jeez, in a couple of months we'll be back in Cascade, and I'll be cleared to drive. 'Til then just suck it up."
Feeling his face flush red hot, Jim suddenly clammed up. He quickly lowered his eyes and concentrated of scooping the rest of his omelet up onto his bagel. He was doing that more and more whenever the subject of returning to Cascade came up -- just freezing up in a split second of panic. He felt like shit over the way he was starting to think, and he hoped to keep it from Sandburg until he could get himself in check.
"God, you're right, it's no big deal." Jim took his plate over to the sink and stuck it into the dishwasher without rinsing first.
Blair rolled over next to him and handed his dishes over, regarding his partner with a quiet frown for a moment before voicing his thoughts. "Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but you did that weird soap opera freakout every time Simon talked about going back to Cascade, but I just thought it was some guilt thing, like you didn't think I was ready or something. What's going on?"
Jim laughed. "Soap opera freakout? What the hell is that?"
Blair demonstrated for him -- the look on his face rapidly morphing from exaggerated confusion, to fear, to horror, to farfetched depravity. The last time Jim laughed so hard, Sandburg was modeling his Elmer Fudd hat for him during a stakeout.
Blair started laughing too, but he didn't allow the subject to change. "Tell me what gives, man."
Jim shrugged, the smile slowly slipping from his face. "I keep waiting to say something. I figure it'll go away or I'll start...I don't know...missing Cascade, missing the job."
Blair didn't speak, he just nodded and leaned forward.
"I like it here. I know I shouldn't, God, I can't believe I'm even telling you this..."
"Why shouldn't you like it here?" Blair asked, then seemed to answer the question for him. "It's like you have this thing going on in your head sometimes that tells you you're not supposed to be happy, like you think you don't deserve it or something, and you do."
Jim shook his head. "But this is...we just came up here to...I don't know, Chief. To recover, you know? We're just supposed to get the pieces put back together and go home, but I...shit, I just really like it here. I love this house, I love our mountain, I love the fact that it takes 45 fucking minutes to get to what anyone in their right mind would call civilization..."
Blair chuckled at that, having listened to Jim gripe every one of those 45 minutes whenever they drove into town. He reached out and took Jim's hand. "That's all fine. What's not to love about this house? It's warm and comfortable, and God knows a thousand times more spacious than the loft. The view is breathtaking, the hot tub totally decadent, the kitchen's a gourmet's wet dream. There's nothing wrong with feeling that way."
Jim shook his head at Blair's words. "But...this is where we came after your accident. Because of your accident. I shouldn't feel good about being..."
"Shouldn't," Blair repeated the word. "There's no shouldn't when you're telling me how you feel. I want to know anything you feel-everything you feel. I love you, Jim."
"I want to stay," Jim whispered, closing his eyes against what he felt was almost unspeakable selfishness. "I don't want to go back to the loft or the job or Cascade. I want to stay here."
Blair gently pulled Jim closer so he could caress his lover's cheek. "So we'll stay." Blair sounded bewildered that Jim could think it would be otherwise.
With a shudder, Jim slipped his arms around Blair and rested his head on Blair's lap. "What about you? Everything's back in Cascade."
"You're here." Blair leaned down to kiss Jim's head.
The words and Blair's soft strokes against his hair made Jim shudder. "I haven't even started thinking about school yet, and I'm not sure when I will. If I will. Maybe...maybe there's a whole new career to go along with this whole new me, you know? And if you want to add a whole new you to the mix then I'm behind you all the way, okay?"
Jim sat back on his haunches. He ducked his head with a shrug. "Are you disappointed in me?"
"No!" denied Blair. "God, how could you even think that?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know-you're the one always going on about protecting the tribe and genetic imperatives and all that crap. Aren't I supposed to be a cop?"
"The only thing you're supposed to be is whatever it is you want to be."
"But I don't even know what that is. How messed up is that?"
"It's not messed up." Blair dismissed the idea with the wave of his hand. "Jim, this isn't what we thought our life was going to be like. Our life. I never thought I'd spend all my time sitting on my hairy ass, and you sure as hell never thought you'd spend yours wiping it for me. We're allowed to stop and regroup here."
"It's a privilege to wipe your ass," Jim said, with such devout sincerity that both he and Blair broke into laughter again.
"I'm gonna ask you that question in 50 years, Ellison-we'll see what the answer is then."
Jim laid his head in Blair's lap again, picking up Blair's hand and placing it on his hair. "How many more times will we have to regroup in that 50 years?"
"I'm guessing we've got some more bumps in our road. But jeez, man, this has to be the big kahuna of the bumps, don't you think?"
"The grand poobah," Jim agreed. He sighed and enjoyed Blair's caresses for awhile longer. He was grinning to himself and fully expecting the painful tug on his short hair when he asked, "So, what do you think Simon's gonna say when you tell him we're not coming back?"
Cackling gleefully, Jim pulled into the library parking lot. He was almost an hour later than he said he'd be, but Sandburg wouldn't be shedding any tears.
Besides, it was worth the extra time for the scoop he'd picked up. He couldn't wait to share this little gem with Sandburg.
Since the weather was nice, Jim ignored the handicapped spaces and pulled into the first open spot he saw. He knew better than to expect Sandburg to be waiting for him by the door, but out of habit he sat back in his seat and honed in on his guide's voice with unerring precision.
"No, we're staying on for awhile," he heard Blair saying.
"So y'all still liking it up at Big Tree then?" a woman's voice asked. Before going to the trouble of piggybacking sight to hearing, Jim recognized the voice as belonging to the librarian, Louisa, a nice, matronly woman, who was married to the town's dentist.
"Are you kidding? It's great!"
"I'll tell you, Ms. Sarah sure does have a crush on that friend of yours. I don't think she's stopped talking about him since the first time he came in the store."
"I knew something was up! He keeps coming home with extra loaves of homemade bread that Ms. Sarah won't let him pay for!"
"I told you she's got it bad for him! If y'all are gonna stay on full time, that may come in handy. Ms. Sarah's is the only place you can buy beer after the first big snow. Most years that's around the middle of November."
"I was once trapped on the wrong side of a river during the rainy season in Africa. I know how important it is to make friends with the village shopkeeper, so to speak."
"Trapped in Africa?" Louisa sounded amazed.
Good Lord, Jim thought, scurrying inside. If Blair got started on one of his African adventure stories they'd be here for another three hours. "Oh hey, hey there, Chief, how's it going!" Jim called, approaching at a jog and waving an arm to get Blair's attention before he could settle into story-telling mode.
The sour look on Blair's face said he knew exactly what Jim was thinking. "Hey, man, look at you," Blair said. "Perfect timing, huh?"
"Well, you know, you said you'd be done at two and it's three-thirty, so I figured I'd give it a shot."
"Don't even start with me, Ellison," Blair warned. "Hey, you know Louisa Bolt, right? Louisa, this is Jim."
"Yes, I know Louisa," Jim said, giving her a smile that made her blush and fumble with the pens on her desk. "You introduce us every time you check out a book."
"Your mind's not what it used to be, man. I'm just playing it safe."
"Funny. I'm cracking up over here, Chief. Do you believe what I have to put up with, Louisa?" Jim leaned over the checkout counter. "It's just not right, I tell you. Not right at all." He winked at her, then jumped back as the pens she was holding suddenly shot out of her hands like an exploding firecracker.
"Oh, my!" Louisa blushed a furious red and scrambled to pick up the pens. "You two are up to something every time you come in here," she said, tsking good-naturedly while Jim returned a bunch of the Bics to her.
"But do you notice how everything is calm and quiet until he shows up?" Blair asked. "Don't let him give me a bad rap, Louisa. Not when you know the truth." Blair's chair sat too low to the ground for him to lean over the counter, but he looked up at Louisa with wide, innocent eyes, endearingly cocking his head to the side.
"Oh for heavens sake, cut it out the both of you!" Louisa ordered. She pushed Blair's books into Jim's hands and pointed at the door. "Now, skedaddle! Out, out, out! SHOO!"
Jim slipped behind Blair and headed for the door at a light run. "Tough crowd." Jim slowed as they neared the truck.
"Have you ever notice how often in our day-to-day lives we're either running from people or people are running from us?"
"You know, I have noticed that. In my new life, I'm gonna see to it that that happens less and less."
"Good luck," Blair said with mock sincerity.
Jim responded with a smack to the back of Sandburg's head, and Blair said, "You know, that's a good example of why people are running from you, Ellison."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Chief. I'm dialing it down. Can't hear a word you're saying."
Blair was leafing through one of his books, but he muttered to himself as he read. "That's number two on the list. I'm gonna write 'em down for him so he can start working now..." Blair looked up just as Jim turned into the hardware store's parking lot.
"Hey, what are you doing? Dammit, Jim we are NOT going back to the hardware store! You had two hours to pet all the shiny objects!"
"No, hold on, we're not going in," Jim said. "Fuck you, by the way. I just want to show you something. Someone." Jim circled the parking lot, then drove toward the back of the store where fertilizer and lumber were loaded into customers' cars. He nodded toward the gate where a tall, bear of a man stood. Dressed in faded work coveralls, he was in his late 50's, early sixties with hardly a stitch of hair on his head and a beard bushy enough to give Grizzly Adams a run for his money. "There he is. That's Henry "Buck" Loomis right there, Chief."
"And we're gawking at him because..."
Jim was snickering again. "Because when I told Ms. Sarah that I'd been at the hardware store buying lumber she said well I musta met ol' Buck Loomis, and I said I had, so then Ms. Sarah tells me Buck Loomis and Grady O'Shay have lived over at the Henderson place nigh on 25 years. Then she tells me she never thought she'd ever meet two men who were as good a friends as Buck and Grady until lo and behold who walks into her store but me and my best friend!"
Blair burst out laughing. "Get out, no way! Oh God, maybe we will go 50 years without anyone finding out!" Now he eagerly squirmed to get a better look at Buck, who was showing a customer a set of two-by-fours. "So what's he like? Did he, like, give you the secret handshake or anything? Wink-wink-nudge-nudge? Did he give anything away?"
"Nothing. He knew who I was, who we were. Knew we're out at Big Tree. Said he told Mick Lanier the deck wouldn't hold up with the cut-rate lumber he was using, but apparently you just can't tell Mick anything."
"Mick." Blair shook his head in exaggerated disgust at such folly. "So Buck and Grady, huh? Jeez, I can't believe this! And in our own back yard, too. Shocking."
"Ms. Sarah says for sure we'll meet Grady at the Founder's Day celebration, 'cause it just ain't Founder's Day 'til Grady breaks out his bread and butter pickles."
Blair started laughing again. "Oh God, we've fallen into a Leave It To Beaver episode and can't get out." He reached over and affectionately patted Jim's thigh. "You sure about making this our permanent address Wally?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know, Beav, ask me again after I've scored some of Grady's pickles." They both went off laughing again. "You'd better get the recipe from him. Someday, you'll be providing the pickles, babe."
"I beg your pardon." Blair acted insulted. "I'm not the pickle maker in this relationship."
"You're saying, I'm the pickle maker?" Jim asked, equally affronted.
"I'm just sayin' if someone's makin' pickles, it ain't me."
"Well if it ain't you, the only one left makin' 'em is me."
"Well, make nice with Grady at the picnic, buddy."
"Just sidle up to him and demand he give me his pickle..." Jim left off there, the tickle of laughter in his throat letting loose.
"Recipe," Blair finished, joining in again.
"Hi, Grady." Jim imitated the voice of a smarmy game show host. "I'm Jim Ellison, and I'd like to take a gander at your pickle, there."
"I don't know, man," Blair said, gasping for breath. "Buck doesn't look like the kinda guy you mess with. Maybe I'd better handle Grady's pickle."
Jim shook his head. "You know what they say about sending a boy to do a man's work."
"Forget about it, I was chowing down on pickles before you ever even thought about adding them to your diet."
"That is just a bald-faced lie, Sandburg. I had my first pickle before you were old enough to..."
"To what?" Blair taunted, one eyebrow lifted in superiority. "To drive a car? Vote? Run for president? Any way you cut the cucumber, you were pushing the big four-oh before any juicy little pickles made their way down your throat."
"How do you know I didn't just tell you that so you wouldn't be riddled with performance anxiety?" asked Jim. "Huh? Tell me that, Smart Ass."
"You've been performing as long as I have, anxiety is the last thing you've gotta worry about."
"Shut up," Jim said.
"Drives you nuts, doesn't it," Blair teased. "You just can't stand the number of pickles I consumed before becoming a one -- pickle kinda guy."
"Numbers are meaningless." Jim shrugged carelessly. "If all you're after is a slash in the win column..."
"How about size then?" Blair asked, grinning widely. "You aren't gonna try to tell me that size doesn't matter are you? 'Cause let me tell you, I have had some whoppers in my day. I'm talking pickles so huge, three days later you're still full."
"There's some rope in the back of the truck, Sandburg. Keep it up, and I'll tie you to the bumper and tow you home over 25 miles of gravel, all right?"
Blair laughed at that before reaching over to stroke Jim's arm. "Now, come on Bubby," he soothed, his voice low and smooth and unbearably earnest. "You're the Pickle King as far as I'm concerned, you know that. No other barrel in the world's gonna catch my eye when I'm all full up on you."
Laughing his ass off again, Jim shoved Blair back to his side of the truck. "You suck."
Blair nodded in agreement. "And lick and bite and all sorts of other things, too."
Jim picked up the hand he'd just pushed away. "Yeah, lucky me, huh?" He slipped his fingers through Blair's and kissed the back of Blair's hand.
"Even luckier when we get home," Blair promised. "How often do we serve pickles twice in one day?"
Jim made of show of gunning the motor as they exited the parking lot, but after that, he took it slow, enjoying the sunny day, the clean air, the deserted roads, and the laughter of the man he loved. They drove on, trading pickle jokes and innuendo all the way up to Big Tree, the place they'd now call home.