Archive of Our Own ^beta

Author's disclaimer: Not mine. Will dry them off and return in more or less same condition.

Intentions by MJ

All the way back home, Blair nattered, opined, extrapolated about everything that could possibly be related to snow angels and snow leopards. He asked Jim so many questions about the snow
leopard so fast that the cop wondered if there were any words left in the English language that had not been used in the last twenty minutes.

"Why a leopard? Did you have this primal need to make a leopard? To mark the snow with the image of your spirit guide? Are you going to need to mark other things?" He fairly vibrated in place.

Deep in Jim's mind, 'oh yes, mark something else. Oh yes. The wolf...I need to mark the wolf.' He held himself in check, knowing that while Blair might understand that need intellectually, he would freak on an emotional level.

They had arrived at the loft but Blair did not seem to realize it. Though he sat there shivering in the dampness of his clothes, he continued to explore the ideas that raced through his agile mind. Jim could guess what would be coming: a request for additional testing of this aspect of his sentinel abilities. He had to distract the anthropologist as soon as possible.

"Chief, we're home."

"Yah. So as I think we need to define the perameters of this new phenomenon. I mean, ..." Blair got out of the truck without pausing his verbal exposition. "...we can't overlook such a potentially fundemental component of the sentinel spiritual and territoral structures. Certainly within many cultures there is this marking behaviour."

"Go in, Chief. The elevator's here." He directed Blair into the elevator with one hand on the young man's lower back.

"Yah. I was reading just the other day about the White Horse at Uffington...in England? On a hillside carved into the underlying chalk. Not that I am saying that making snow angels is in the same league. Man, you should see that chalk horse. Amazing." One hand on his shoulder moved him out of the elevator.

"Late bronze age. Imagine the time it took. I walked all around it once. Over a hundred feet long. Part of the National Trust now. They get people to come and help clear it each year. I did the tail. Took me three hours. Wow, were my shoulders sore..." Blair's hands were working at clearing the tail again.

Picking up the morning paper, Jim unlocked the loft door and they entered into the warmth of home.

"...luckily, Naomi had a bottle of herbal linement. Worked like a charm. By the next day, I was fine. Wait, I bet I still have a bottle of that. I'll get it out and we will have it the next time...mffff!"

Jim stopped Blair's flow of words with his mouth. The young man went entirely still beneath his partner's lips. The taste of Blair's mouth filled the Sentinel's senses and he could not move away. It was Blair who stepped back, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"I ...ah, I ...".

The big cop's heart nearly ceased beating. What had he done? Jim found his voice and managed a calm and collected tone. "Get out of those damp clothes, Chief. Into the shower, I think. Warm up. I'll make breakfast...waffles, blueberry wasn't it? Come on. Get a move on . I'm hungry."

Blair's mouth opening and closing without much coming out reminded Jim of a fish. He had an hysterical desire to blurt out 'snow guppy,' but he managed to keep his mouth shut.

"I ...yes...shower. Yes." And he darted into his room and then, in a moment that Jim just stood staring, out again and down the short hall into the bathroom. The door snapped shut and to Jim's sharp surprize, was locked. Blair never locked the bathroom door.

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'Keep a grip on it, Ellison. Don't panic. You can get through this, you can.' He made himself go into the kitchen and start on the waffles. All his actions were on autopilot, waiting for that moment Blair came out of the bathroom. For the first coherent words out of that sweet mouth. He prayed, as he had not prayed since his mother left him, that he had not ruined what he dreamed of. But how to proceed? Be open and honest or obfuscate in the Sandburg mode?

He sighed. His fear was losing Blair and whatever his action had done to their relationship, he needed to recover the situation. He could not bear the idea of no Blair in his life. He would take his cue from Blair. If his room mate seemed upset by the kiss, he would play it light. If not, then...

The door to the bathroom opened and in a cloud of steam, a figure scooted down the hallway.

"Breakfast just about ready, Chief."

"Yah. Be right there." And, concealed in his ratty bathrobe, he was gone into his room.

Jim stared. That old robe needs to be replaced. He shook his head. 'Assuming you get a chance to do anything.' His attention refocused on the meal, he poured juice into glasses and set syrup and the glasses on the table.

A click of the french doors opening and Blair joined him. "Ah, Jim."

"All ready, Chief. Here, take this plate to the table. I'll bring coffee. Anything else?" Oh, damn, there is a leading question. Blair avoided it.

"No. Well, just some milk. I'll get it."

They settled quickly into their Saturday morning routine: eating a quiet breakfast while reading the paper. Jim started, as he always did, with the sports section. Blair got the front section as he preferred but the Sentinel noticed the younger man was not reading his part of the paper. He was pushing his waffles around on his plate and sneaking surreptitious looks at Jim.

After several minutes of ignoring the situation, Jim got his courage together and glanced at Blair. "Something wrong with the waffles there?"

Blair gave the waffles a quick look. "No, man. No. Just great." A pause to eat a bite. "But, I wondered what...?" He stopped.

"What?" Jim was not going to help.

"Well, you...when we came in, you..."

Jim sat quietly waiting for the worst. Body tensing for the blow.

"You..kissed me."

"Yes." Though he wanted to wait for Blair to continue, he heard himself adding. "Had to. Seemed right." A held breath.

"Oh. Ok. Yah." His face said Blair was processing.

"Bother you?" Now was the moment.

"No, man. Just surprized me." He blinked. "Part of the Sentinel marking thing?"

"Yah, maybe." Part truth. Blair sat, silent. Ok, the kid had an explanation he seemed prepared to accept. Now, if he was not going to talk Jim would. "So we better go and get the tree today. Assuming you still want to do Christmas with me."

"Oh year, cool. And the turkey. Got to have turkey. And plum pudding." He was becoming more animated, seeming happy to leave the kiss issue behind. Jim regretted that but did not want to push.

"Plum pudding?" If Blair wanted to go this way, Jim could live with it.

"Yah. Since Megan is coming I thought she might appreciate it." "She's Aussie not English."

"Yah but she said they eat plum pudding for Christmas at home so I thought it might make her feel less...lonely. ah, home sick."

"Ok sure. who's going to handle that?"

"Got it covered. Mrs. Wilson has made us one. As a thank for yo our help with the kitchen lighting."

Jim recalled the long afternoon with the elderly lady installing a new kitchen lighting system. There was also the sweet smile at the finish. Another of Blair's friendships that the Sentinel's life better. "Great. When we doing presents?"

"In the morning, before anyone else arrives. Over breakfast."

"Hey you making those potatoe latkes for Christmas breakfast?"

"Sure Jim. Sour cream or apple sauce?"

A grin. "Both."

A return smile. "Oh man, you are going to need to work out at the gym. What with all the stuff that we are going to have for supper. Simon is bringing that sweet potato pie he served at Thanksgiving. Megan said she'd do some special bread and an appitizer. Shrimp, I think. Maybe we should have fresh fruit for dessert instead of the pudding."

"No way, Sandburg. I want that pudding. Got to be nice to our exchange officer." He smiled warmly. "I like to tease her but Megan is all right. Fits in."

"Yah, I like her too."

"Ok. You done? Let's get on the road."

The partners cleaned up the breakfast dishes and headed out.

All day Jim thought about the kiss. How much he wanted to do it again. How much he wanted to tell Blair what he felt. But he promised himself to go slow. Maybe Christmas night, after the others had gone home.

(To be continued.)