Blair heard them coming even before they got to the door. He scrambled from the couch, dropping books and scattering papers and met them just as Simon knocked. "Jim! What’s wrong?" His partner hung on Simon Banks’ shoulder like a bad suit, he even looked soiled and in need of a pressing.

"Just - just let me - sit down," Jim begged. Simon, huffing under the weight made to drag his detective further into the apartment. Blair hurried to lend his own support, propping Jim up as they stumbled towards the couch. A few papers were trampled but with a grateful moan Jim was finally lowered onto the cushions. Blair knelt beside him, frantic with worry. Lines of pain criss-crossed Jim’s brow, sweat dripped down his pale features and he’d seemed to moan with each step they took.

"Jim?" Blair asked, but his partner curled onto his side, legs drawn up tight and large hands cradling the bulge between his legs like a man protecting something precious after a failed attempt to relieve him of it. "Simon?" Voice raising an octave, Sandburg could only watch in horror as his partner and best friend did his best not to cry. "What in god’s name is wrong!?"

"Blair," Simon put a comforting hand on Sandburg’s shoulder. "Jim arrested Adrian Olberding today." Blair’s puzzled look prompted Banks to explain. "The one we suspected of poisoning her roommate."

"Oh, yeah," Blair nodded. Jim had been working on the case alone while Sandburg finished end of semester grading.

"She slipped away from the arresting officers but Jim tracked her to a shed in a neighbor’s yard." Jim reached out and clutched his partner’s hand before Simon could finish.

"Don’t laugh, Chief," he pleaded. Blair stared at him in disbelief. How could his partner think he would find anything which had left Jim in such obvious pain humorous?

"Jim didn’t detect a weapon so he swung open the door, gun in hand," Banks paused, bottom lips held between his teeth as he sucked in a deep breath. "She had a baseball bat. Needless to say, Jim’s gun went flying…….." Banks lost it, hiding his face with one hand until he could continue. "He tackled her and in the struggle………," Simon fought to get the words out, "she hit an infield fly…..straight to Jim’s fly! She whacked a ……home run!"

Blair fought to control his own involuntary smile, Jim looked far too pale for levity right now. "Okay, I get it," he said, "but look, Simon, Jim could have some real damage here."

"I - am not- going," Jim groaned, rolling onto his back but still holding his crotch, "to let some - doctor handle my dick."

"Okay, I will," Blair declared, a statement he’d never thought he would utter to Jim’s face. "Simon, help me get him into my room." With a lot of cussing and swearing and sweating, the three men made it to the small room under the stairs. Jim’s face had drained of blood several times but he’d managed to walk without his hands between his legs - a vast improvement over his entrance into the loft. "Now, relax," Blair commanded and slowly reached for his partner’s zipper.

"I think I better leave," Simon commented from the doorway. "This is a moment I really don’t think I want stuck in my memory. Besides," he added solemnly, "I think you two will want to remember your first time without me here."

"Ha-ha," Jim wheezed. Blair shifted Jim’s hands away again, and lowered the front of his slacks. Great, Jim had worn the silk boxers today. They felt erotic against Blair’s skin, so cool and chilly, a startling contrast to the warmth of Jim’s smooth skin. Tentatively Blair grasped the lax organ. "Chief!" Ellison’s shout resulted in Blair dropping the dangling bits of flesh and this in turn brought another shout from Jim.

"Damit, Jim!" Blair bellowed.

"Could you put on mittens or something? Your hands are like ice!" Ellison gasped, his own again shielding his privates.

"They do not show this kind of stuff on the Playboy channel," Simon muttered from the doorway.

"I thought you were leaving," Blair snapped. He focused on his partner, swatting Jim’s hands away then bending close to examine the abused flesh. Livid bruises made it quite spectacular to behold. "Uh, Jim, are you glad to see me or are you a bit swollen?"

Ellison pried open one eye, glanced down at himself then at his partner. "Well, I’m not sure, Chief. Could you strip yourself naked and prance around the room for a minute, see if things change?"

"I did not strip you naked!" Blair pointed out.

"No you just plop me down here and leave Jim Jr. flapping in the breeze."

"Flapping is right," Blair murmured under his breath.

"I heard that."

"Jim," Blair sat down beside his partner. "I’m just worried, okay? You could have ruptured something. This isn’t an injury to ignore."

"I couldn’t ignore this if I wanted to, Chief," Jim said softly. He reached out and stroked a hand down Sandburg’s arm. "Get on with it, okay?" Blair nodded, and gently probed the bruised and battered flesh on display. Satisfied that nothing had been permanently damaged, he tucked Jim back into his boxers.

"How’s the pain?" He’d noticed Jim slowing his breathing, and seen the color come back to his cheeks.

"Better," Jim acknowledged. "It was unbearable at first. Guess my dials just went out the door there for awhile." He smiled sleepily, the adrenaline rush wearing off along with the pain and leaving him exhausted. "Pain always goes away when you’re with me." His hand found Blair’s, wrapping around it even as his eyes drifted shut.

"He is okay, isn’t he?" Banks asked.

"Yeah," Blair ran his free hand over Jim’s forehead, "he’s okay now." Six feet of pure muscle, ten yards of temper and one hundred percent sentinel, Jim Ellison still managed to be the most vulnerable man Blair knew. He gave the impression of invincibility but anyone who knew him, knew he needed someone to take care of him. Blair smiled down at his friend, glad to be able to do this for him. "Simon, could you get me the peas out of the freezer…."

"……outta peas," Jim mumbled, "I got corn."

"What the hell are you two talking about." When Blair glanced at him, Simon wore a confused frown.

"Just bring whatever frozen vegetable you find in the freezer and the towel off the counter," he instructed. Simon returned carrying a bag of frozen corn and a tea towel. His confused frown gave way to a look of bemused disgust as Blair took both, wrapped the towel around the bag and nestled it between Jim’s legs. Blair gave him a rueful grin, "remind me not to tell you what we’d done with that broccoli you ate last week." Working slowly he undressed Ellison and pulled the blankets up to his chin. "Poor guy," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Jim’s cheek. "No nookie for you for a while." When he turned around, Simon’s frown had come back but this time Blair thought he saw a little speculation mixed in with confusion. He let it simmer.

Blair showed his friend out, laughing softly at what Simon must be thinking. He was tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. He checked on Jim one last time, making sure the frozen corn wasn’t touching skin, then covering him up and turned off the light. Blair cast around the loft, eyes settling on the upstairs bedroom, "well, guess I get the king size tonight!" He trotted up the stairs, stripping clothes as he went, falling onto the wide mattress with a weary sigh and sinking instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep. He slept so deeply that only the sound of a car horn in the street below woke him. Sunlight shown in through the windows and when his bleary eyes made out the numbers on the alarm clock, Blair felt his heart skip several beats.

"Shit!" he yelped, staggering from the tangle of bedclothes, and stumbling down the stairs. He peeked into his room, saw Jim was still asleep and tiptoed inside. Blair scooped an armful of clothes from the chair, hoping at least part of it was something he could wear and headed for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he was out the door and on the way to class. He missed the taxi pulling up in front of 852 Prospect by three minutes.

* * *

Naomi Sandburg fished out the spare key Jim had reluctantly given her and slipped it into the lock. She so wanted to surprise Blair, it was less than a week ‘til his birthday and she had a present he would adore. Moving carefully through the quiet apartment, just in case Jim was still asleep she peered into her son’s room. Sunlight filtered in through the window from the living room and she could make out a shape huddled beneath the blankets. "He’s so cute when he sleeps," she whispered to her self and moved closer. Something crunched underfoot and a moment later Naomi was puzzling over the fact her son had kernels of corn, some still frozen others squishy, scattered across the floor.

A moment after that, she wondered why her son had his mostly naked roommate scattered across his bed. It was definitely Jim Ellison lying boneless on the narrow mattress. She took a moment to enjoy the play of muscles over his ribs, the way his boxers clung to………was that a plastic bag ripped open and draped across his splayed thighs? Well, as least she knew where the corn had come from. Naomi backed from the room, careful of the mess on the floor and did what she always did when confronted with the unexpected. She meditated.

Two hours later she head a muffled groan, a stifled curse, a disgusted yelp and Jim Ellison emerged from the bedroom. He had a respectable case of "bed head", and the black boxers lent him a sexy air despite the mashed corn clinging to his calves and flaking off in his wake. However, he moved like a geriatric grandmother wearing house slippers and using a walker - the kind without the tennis balls. Someone had obviously had a rough night.

"Hi, Jim," she chirped. Naomi had learned many things about her son’s best friend; Jim was loyal and true, his possessive instincts towards Blair were highly developed, he liked blue, he had a soft spot for kids, and he hated people who were cruel to animals. She added a new quality to her mental list - #7 Never chirp at Jim after a night of kinky sex with Blair. "I’m sorry, sweetie," she apologized, helping Jim up off the table.

"Naomi," Jim wiped a hand across his face and peered at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Just dropping off Blair’s birthday present." She glanced at the back at her son’s room, "where is he, anyway?"

"Class?" Jim eased himself into a chair, shifting as bruised flesh came in contact with unyielding wood. "I suppose he told you what happened." Ellison’s face flushed red, his gaze dropping to the surface of the table.

"Oh, sweetie," Naomi took pity on her new son-in-law and merely smiled.

"It was so stupid," Jim explained. "I should have seen it coming, but it happened so fast."

"It’s usually like that," Naomi agreed.

"We’ll it’s not so bad, the pain was really awful at first but now it’s just a dull ache." Ellison sighed, clearly relieved.

Naomi felt her own face begin to heat. She and Blair made it a point not to go into detail about their love lives to each other - there was such a thing as too much information. "I’m sure Blair didn’t mean to hurt you."

"No, he didn’t!" Jim hurried to assure Naomi. "He was really careful. Mittens would have been nice, but too clumsy I guess."

"Mittens?" Naomi regarded Ellison with quizzical eyes, in the sexy sixties they’d been called hand puppets or love gloves - "some times you just need that personal contact."

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "Simon laughed about that too."

"Simon was here?" Maybe Blair had been old enough to understand some of her stories after all. "Did he……help?"

"No, not with that. He just got me to the bed and then stood there watching," Jim said. "He is my captain, you know. I think it would have been uncomfortable for him later."

"I sure it would have." Brushing aside a damp lock of hair, Naomi made a show of looking at her watch. "Oh, my, look at the time. I have to go, Jim."

"But what about Blair’s present?"

"I’ll just leave it," Naomi assured him. She took a step towards the door, then turned back, curiosity getting the better of her. "Jim, about the corn……?"

Ellison blushed. "Blair used it for the swelling," he mumbled. "The sack must of broken during the night. Waking up with corn suck up your………"

"Jim," Naomi stopped him with a hand to his lips. "Whatever you and Blair do is fine. Just take care of him and let him take care of you."

"He does. We do," Jim said. "He’s a take charge kind of guy. He knew exactly what to do, had me on the bed and went to work like a pro."

"That’s nice, Jim," Naomi smiled. "I’m just glad you’re okay. I know you said you were sore but……," she shrugged.

"But next time I’ll know what to expect," he said with a rueful grin. "Thanks for coming by, Naomi. I really didn’t want Blair telling anyone - it’s kind of embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? You mean Blair…..taking control? Directing matters, so to speak?" She gave her son-in-law an appraising look. She’d known dozens of big, tough guys like Jim who wanted to be on the bottom. It didn’t make them any less masculine.

"No, the baseball bat," Jim answered. "Next time I’ll be ready." He kissed her cheek, shuffling beside her to the door. "I’ll tell Blair you were here." He shut the door before she had a chance to even ask. Naomi shook herself. Baseball bat? Walking away, she decided there were some things a mother-in-law just didn’t need to know.

End…8/99

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