New
Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles
Fireside
by Sorcha
Many thanks to Danae for beta-reading, and to Jen and Dana for helping me come up with an ending for this story. I'd also like to thank Michelle, Odie, Suzie, and Susan for their support. :-)
Feedback is always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, I don't own the boys. I made no money by writing this story so please don't sue me. No infringement intended.
It had been a long day at work, and the cold, wet weather had done nothing to help keep Detective James Ellison's spirits up. However, as he neared home, he felt some of the built up tension begin to leave his body. A hint of a smile even began to work its way onto Jim's face as he thought ahead to the relaxing evening he was planning to spend with his roommate and best friend, Blair Sandburg. With a barely detectable sigh, Jim parked his truck outside the loft and undid his seatbelt. "You ready to make a run for it, Chief?" he asked his partner, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
Blair looked out the window at the grey sky and driving rain with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."
Both men climbed out of the truck and jogged over to the building, hurrying inside. Jim pressed the button for the lift as Sandburg gave his head a quick and vigorous shake, sending water droplets spraying off of his wet curls in every direction.
"Hey, Fido, watch where you're shaking," Ellison scolded good-humouredly.
"Sorry, man," Blair said, smiling and not sounding very sorry at all. He rubbed his arms and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet in hope of warming up. "Brrr! I wish the elevator would hurry up. I'm freezing! We should've taken the stairs, man."
"You still can," Ellison pointed out with a smile.
Before Sandburg could respond, there was a mechanical groan and the elevator doors parted. Blair grinned up at his sentinel. "Well, now that it's here, I might as well take it. We wouldn't want all that time spent waiting to go to waste now, would we?"
"Sure, Chief." Jim was about to make a further comment when he was distracted by Blair smacking himself on the forehead.
"Damn! I forgot my papers in the truck."
With an amused glint in his eyes, Jim backed into the elevator and tossed his friend the car keys. "Here you go, Chief. I'll see you upstairs."
"Thanks." Blair turned and headed back to the door. In his eagerness to retrieve his papers and get up to the dry and hopefully warm loft, Sandburg took off at a run as soon as he was out the door. Halfway to the truck, Blair slipped on some mud and lost his footing. He crashed to the ground with a splash, having conveniently landed in a puddle of ice-cold water. "Oh, man," the unfortunate anthropologist groaned. His butt was already going numb from the combination of pain and frigid water. Blair tilted his head back and looked up into the rain that was pouring down on him. He was completely soaked. "This sucks. This *really* sucks." With a sigh, Blair got to his feet and resumed his trip to the truck.
Trying to drip as little water as possible on the seats, Sandburg leaned into the truck and tucked the forgotten papers safely under his jacket. Mission accomplished, he headed back inside, carefully avoiding all patches of mud. Once inside, Blair opted for the stairs over the elevator, taking them two at a time. It was with great relief that he entered the loft, closing the door firmly behind him.
"What the hell happened to you?" Jim asked from the couch as he took in the sight of his muddy and dripping partner. "Don't tell me you got attacked by an angry mud puddle."
"Ha ha, Jim." Blair dropped his backpack and papers on the floor beside him. "I slipped, okay?"
Ellison was eyeing Blair's clothing in a rather unimpressed manner. "Ah, Sandburg. . . ."
"What?"
"You're dripping all over the floor."
Blair waved him off. "Don't worry, man. You know, a wise man once said ‘A little dripping is good for the soul'."
"Is that so?"
"Yep."
"And what would the name of this wise man be?" Jim asked, already having guessed what the answer would be.
"Blair Sandburg."
"I thought so. But somehow I don't think wise is the right word here, Chief. I think wise-ass would be better."
"Oh, you're just a barrel of laughs tonight, Jim," Blair said sarcastically, but he was grinning. "I'm gonna go get out of these wet clothes now before I freeze to death."
"Just don't forget to clean up the puddle by the door," Jim reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah," Blair said over his shoulder, already halfway to the bathroom.
Jim settled back into the cushions, resting his arms along the back of the couch. The scene around him almost made the terrible weather welcome. The sound of the rain assaulting the balcony doors was accompanied by the crackling of the fire that Jim had lit upon his arrival. The warm, orange glow of the fire made the loft welcoming and cosy. Jim smiled, glad to be home. As he heard Sandburg leave the bathroom and head for his bedroom, Ellison closed his eyes for a moment. This was the kind of evening that he'd been looking forward to all day.
As Blair emerged from his bedroom in dry sweat pants and a t-shirt, Jim looked up from the couch again, a twinkle in his eye. "By the way, Chief, if I find any mud in my truck tomorrow, you'll be doing a thorough cleaning. Inside and out."
"What?!" Blair exclaimed. "Oh, come on, man. I was careful to not get it dirty. And besides, as a guide, cleaning your truck is *not* in my job description."
"Sure it is," Jim countered, enjoying himself. "Right under where it says that a guide must obey all his sentinel's house rules."
"Hah! Nice try, Jim, but you can't just make things up as we go along."
"Why not? That's what you do all the time, isn't it?" The moment the words were out of his mouth, Jim regretted them. As he expected, he saw a glint of hurt in Blair's eyes before they were cast down. Jim stood up as he mentally kicked himself. "Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --"
"No, man, don't apologize. It's true. I do make things up as we go along." Sandburg turned slightly so he wouldn't have to look at Jim.
However, Ellison moved around the coffee table so that he was standing in front of his partner. Placing his hands on Blair's shoulders, Jim said, "Chief, look at me." Sandburg was hesitant at first, but then his eyes came up to meet Jim's, so the detective continued. "When we're doing the sentinel thing, new things are getting thrown at you all the time. You think quick, and that's a good thing, Blair. It's what we usually need. Don't take what I said the wrong way."
"But what happens if I one day can't come up with something that works? What then?"
Jim put his hands to Blair's cheeks. "Chief, you're my Guide, and I think you were always meant to be my Guide. I know that you'll always be there for me and that you'll always be able to help me. It's in you, Blair. It's part of who you are, who we are." Jim dropped his hands back down to Sandburg's shoulders. Seeing that Blair was looking a bit unsure, Jim asked, "Is this getting through to you?"
Blair smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, Jim. My head's not *that* thick, you know."
Smiling, Jim gently tapped the side of Blair's head, as if he were testing for thickness. Then his face turned serious again. "How about down here?" he asked, tapping Blair's chest over his heart.
Sandburg looked down at the spot where Jim's fingers had been, and swallowed. "It's starting to get through down there too."
Ellison tipped Blair's chin up so that their eyes met again. "Good, because it's the truth." Jim looked at his friend carefully for a moment before speaking again. "You know how much you mean to me, Blair." The statement was also partly a question.
"Yeah, I know," Blair responded truthfully. He was confident that Jim wanted and needed him in his life. He just wasn't always sure that he could live up to the standards that Jim deserved.
"And you know how much you've helped me with this sentinel thing. And how much you've changed my life for the better." Ellison got another nod from his partner. "All right, then." He Blair's shoulders a squeeze. "So, are we okay here, Chief?"
"Yeah," Blair replied. "Yeah, we're good."
Jim smiled. "Good." Slinging an arm around Sandburg's shoulders, Jim turned his guide around so that he was facing the loft door. "Now, about that puddle you left on the floor. . . ."
"Aw, Jim! You really know how to ruin a special moment, you know that?"
Ellison chuckled. "Well, I'll tell you what. You clean up the puddle and we can share some more special moments while I cook us some spaghetti."
"I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy already, man," Blair commented dryly as he went to find a towel to clean the water up with.
Jim moved into the kitchen to get dinner ready. As he put a pot of water on the stove to boil, he found that he was grinning widely. All the stress from earlier in the day had disappeared completely, leaving only contentment. Ellison's life had changed so much since Sandburg had become a part of it. In the past, Jim would come home after a long day at work to a cold and empty apartment. Now the loft never felt empty. Even when Blair was not physically in the loft, there was a certain atmosphere that made it feel like a true home, and Jim cherished this change. Still smiling, he said a silent thank you to whatever force or power had brought his Guide into his life, knowing that it was Blair who was the cause of the warmth in his heart.
The End