Finally, a chance to get our pet peeves off of our chests!! BTW, I'm a

CPA, specializing in tax preparation....Anyway, this story sort of got

away from me, a lot longer, and a little darker than I planned, but it's

what the boys wanted. A little bit mushy and silly towards the end, tho.

Disclaimer...They don't belong to me, but to Pet Fly, UPN, etc., but if

I could buy stock in 'em, and afford it, I would. Don't sue...you'll

just force me into bankruptcy. Positive feedback and constructive

criticism appreciated; if you hate it, don't tell me...I'll just go

back to sucking my thumb, hiding under the covers with my Blankie, and

never write again.

Rating...PG-13, for implied violence, m/m relationship.

Archive...sure! go ahead; Michelle, get better soon!

Oh, BTW, not beta'd...all mistakes are mine.

This is the first complete story I ever posted to SXF. I believe it was in June or July 1997, before the Template came out! Slight Mary Sue alert….

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A Taxing Time

Sometime in mid-March...

James Ellison sat at the table, surrounded by a myriad of receipts, bank

statements, invoices, various papers and 1099s; groaning, he put his head

in his hands and mumbled, "God, I hate this; every year, why do we have

to do this every year?"

His roommate and partner, Blair Sandburg, raised his head from the book

he was reading on the couch, and smirked at his roommate. "That's what

you get for having possessions, man; Jeez, I filed my return in January!!"

"I'm surprised you even had to file a return, Chief, " Jim retorted.

"Just how much did you make last year, anyway, five bucks?"

"Oh, ha, ha, Jim, I'm dying of laughter over here, man. Seriously,

though, why don't you just put everything in a sack or box, and take

it over to your accountant?"

"No, way, Sandburg. That would cost me a fortune...she charges by the

hour, you know. Anyway, every year, I list everything neatly on a legal

pad, get all the papers together by category, and tie all the numbers

back to the originals. Cynthia really likes that...she says it saves

her lots of time, and me lots of money. Besides, I don't want all of

my refund to go towards the bill for tax preparation! I'm planning

on using it to take a vacation to Maui later this year."

Blair looked up, his eyes wide. "Maui, really? Oh, man, I'd love to

go there. I hear its really beautiful, the people friendly, lots to

see and do..." his voice trailed off. "Wish I could go," he whispered.

Jim looked affectionately at his partner. "Look, Blair, the condo that

I'm getting has two bedrooms; if you can swing the cost of the plane

ticket..."

Blair looked dejectedly at his feet, his hair falling forward and hiding

his face. "Aw, man, I wish, but I need to fix the Volvo, not to mention

make a payment on my loan, and my laptop's about to die on me." He

sighed. "No way I could get enough money for air fare, not now."

"Well, the trip isn't for a couple of months; you need a vacation too,

Chief. Tell you what, get together as much money as you can, and I'll

pay for the rest," said Jim.

"I can't let you do that, Jim," Blair said quietly. He looked over at

his roommate, whose brow was furrowed with concentration. Oh, God, he

thought, if he could only get the money. He and Jim, alone, in Hawaii...

he and Jim, alone on the beach, walking slowly as the sun disappeared in

another perfect sunset; man, that would be so romantic; maybe, just maybe

Jim could start to feel for him what he felt for Jim. He sighed as he

slowly rose to his feet and walked over to his partner.

"Anything I can help you with, Jim? I'm not bad at paperwork, you

know." Blair grinned and wagged his eyebrows at his friend.

Jim glanced up warmly at Blair. "Sure, Chief, grab a chair and help

me to look through this mess for receipts dealing with any ex-

penses related to the job that I paid out-of-pocket."

"Don't you get reimbursed for that, Jim?" asked Blair.

"Some of it, well, most of it, when I remember to turn it in. It's

important to find everything, though. Every little deduction helps!

I want that refund to be as big as possible!"

Blair sat down at the table with Jim and started sifting through the

mass of papers.

"Aha!! Here's the mortgage interest!" Jim exclaimed. He clipped the

form to a piece of paper, and neatly wrote down the amount and what

it was for.

As he reached for another piece of paper to peruse, the phone rang.

"Ellison," he barked into the phone. He listened for a moment, then

said, "Okay, Simon, we're on our way."

"C'mon, Chief, we gotta go. This looks like a nasty one."

Blair grimaced, grabbed his coat, and followed Jim out the door.

For the next few weeks, the partners spent almost all of their time

working on the case of a serial killer that the media had dubbed

"The Butcher," because of the numerous stab wounds inflicted on

the victims' bodies with what seemed to be a butcher knife. The crime

scenes were excessively bloody, the victims lying in a pool of

their own blood while nearby surfaces were always liberally splattered

with it. As much as Jim tried to keep his partner from seeing

the bodies, he couldn't shield him from the horrific looking

crime scenes...he needed Blair too much to help him with his

senses, and to keep him from zoning while he examined the area.

The case began to take its toll on both of the men, especially

Blair. He began to have nightmares that the older man could

sometimes not wake his partner from for quite a while. Blair

dragged around the loft, circles under his eyes, his clothes

beginning to hang on him. He began to stay up later and later,

avoiding sleep altogether when he could. Jim was deeply

worried about his friend but at a loss to know how to help.

He too, had trouble sleeping; when his exhausted body finally

dragged him into sleep, it was always a restless one. This

night was no different from the rest.

A strangled cry awakened Jim Ellison from a deep and troubled

sleep. Instantly alert, he stilled himself to try and determine

what it was that had woken him up. A sound that almost did not

sound human reverberated through the loft from the floor below.

Grabbing his gun, Jim crept stealthily down the stairs, all of

his senses alert. The sight that greeted his eyes chilled him

to the core. Blair lay half on, half off of the couch; he was

writhing and moaning, deep guttural cries coming from his throat

that tore at the detective's heart. Laying down his gun, Jim

walked swifly over to his roommate.

"Sandburg, Sandburg, wake up. It's just a dream. C'mon, kid,

snap out of it." Jim sat by his partner, pulling him up and

shaking him. "C'mon, Blair, wake up partner." Jim began to

gently slap Blair's cheeks. All of a sudden, Blair began to

struggle with the detective, flailing out with his hands, his

eyes wide open and unfocused.

The bigger man grabbed his partner's wrists, pinning them, and

pulled the younger man to his chest. "Blair, Blair, it's all

right, I've got you, kid. You're safe; I've got you." He began

to stroke Blair's hair back from his sweaty face.

"Jim?" Blair's voice quavered. "Oh, man, oh, God, what a horrible

dream...blood everywhere, spouting up from the floor, dripping

down the walls, and I couldn't find you, man. I was lost in

this room of blood, calling you, but you didn't come, Jim."

Blair's voice shook with the memories of his nightmare.

"Shhh, it's okay, partner. Everything's okay." Jim hugged the

younger man to his chest, rocking slightly. He rubbed his

partner's back, willing him to calm down.

Gradually, Blair's erratic breathing became slower, more normal. His

racing heart began to calm as the big detective continued to murmur

soft reassurances in his ear, stroking his back with a repetitive

motion that helped to soothe Blair's nerves. As he began to feel

more composed and to relax into those big arms holding him, Blair

realized for the first time that Jim was holding him. God, it

felt good to be in his arms! Blair thought. He leaned back,

and looked at his friend; all of his love and gratitude shining

from his eyes. He reached up and tentatively stroked his partner's

cheek. "Thanks, Big Guy," he said.

Jim took Blair's face into his hands, staring into his partner's eyes.

He smiled. "Everything's gonna be okay, kid, you'll see." His thumbs

slowly began to stroke Blair's cheeks.

Blair's eyes dilated with desire; without thinking, he pulled his lips

up to the detective's and kissed him softly, still stroking his

partner's cheek.

For a second, the detective responded, kissing Blair back gently. Then,

as if suddenly realizing what he was doing, he pulled back, a shocked

look on his face. "Uh, Blair, er, um, why don't you get in bed and

see if you can get some sleep, now?" He backed slowly away from his

partner; when he reached the stairs he climbed them rapidly, not looking

back at the younger man.

Blair sat stunned on the couch, his fingers touching his lips. Shakily,

he got up and headed for his room. Silent tears began to fall down

his cheeks. He now felt worse than he had right after his dream. He

climbed into bed, turned his head into his pillow, and wept quietly.

Jim lay wide awake in his bed upstairs. He could hear his partner

weeping, and the soft sounds made his heart ache. What just happened?

he wondered. Blair had kissed him and he had responded. What did this

mean? Did he love him? He knew he cared for him, but in that way? God,

he just didn't know. He didn't want his friendship to be threatened; he

needed Blair, didn't want to lose him. Oh, man, what was he going

to do? What was he going to do? Thoughts raced through his head the

rest of the night; sleep completely escaped him. Finally giving up,

he got out of bed to take a shower and to start breakfast.

Blair slowly came awake to the sounds and smells of breakfast being

prepared. He groaned, sat up and put his head in his hands. Man,

was Jim going to kick him out? He knew he couldn't stand that; he

felt that he would rather die than to leave. He decided to apologize

to Jim and tell him he wanted things to be the way they were. His

thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. He began

to slowly dress as he guessed what the phone call was about. There

was a soft knock at the door, and Jim poked his head in. "There's

been another murder," he stated grimly. "Let's go."

Around midnight that night, a subdued Jim and Blair walked back into

the loft. There was blood all over Blair's shirt, and his arm was

bandaged. He shuffled over to the couch, sinking down onto the

cushions with a barely suppressed moan. Jim immediately walked

into the kitchen and got a glass of water, pulling a bottle of

pills out of his pocket. Giving Blair the glass of water, he

shook two of the tablets out into his hand and held them out

to his partner. "Here, Chief, these will help the pain."

"Jim, I really don't like taking...oh, Hell, okay." He put the pills

in his mouth, swallowing them with the water. He leaned tiredly

back against the couch, shutting his eyes. "Well, at least The

Butcher won't be killing anymore. It's finally over." He laughed

ruefully. "Leave it to me to get in his way just before you shot

him. Only I could have had the lousy luck to be there, to get in

the way, to be stabbed..."

Jim stared down at his partner, his face pale. His hands began to

shake as he realized what had almost happened. "God, Chief, I

almost lost you tonight." He sank onto the couch next to his partner,

placing his hand gently on the other man's shoulder. Carefully,

he gathered his partner into his arms, and began to sob softly.

Cradling the younger man, he began to rock them both back and forth.

"I couldn't stand it if something happened to you, Blair. I really

don't think I could go on. You belong with me, you know? I'm just

now really beginning to realize that, how much you do mean to me."

In a very soft voice, he admitted his feelings to his friend. "I

love you, Chief. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't

want to admit it to myself. But what I feel for you is real, and

it's true; I'm in love with you, Blair, now and forever, for keeps.

This is for always. Please, tell me you feel the same way...if you

don't..."

"Shh." Blair reached up with his good hand, pressing his fingers

softly against the older man's lips. "I love you, Jim Ellison,

for now and forever. I think I've loved you since I first caught

sight of you in that hospital. But I knew I couldn't have you,

couldn't let on to you how I felt, so I chased after women with

complete abandon. None of them ever captured my heart, though

Jim. You're the one I want, the only one I need. I pledge you

my life, my soul, my body. I give to you everything that I am

and will be, now and for eternity." Blair looked up at Jim

with his deep blue eyes shining with love and commitment.

Sighing, Jim slowly lowered his head, until his lips touched

those of his partner's. The kiss was gentle, just hinting at

things to come. Lifting his head, Jim looked down at Blair with

love and tenderness. Standing, he helped the younger man to his

feet. "Come on, love, let's get you to bed. You need to rest."

With the pain medication beginning to take hold, Blair stumbled. Jim

was right there to help him, guiding him towards the stairs.

"Huh? Jim, my room's over there."

"Not anymore, Babe. Your room, your place, is upstairs with me."

Blair smiled, his entire face lighting up for a moment, as the man he

loved gently helped him up the stairs. "Oh, Jim, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Babe. I love you, too. And I promise to show you

just how much in a few days, but tonight, we sleep, and dream dreams

of each other, where people like The Butcher don't exist, and never

will." He tightened his hold on Blair as they walked towards his bed,

then tenderly helped the young man off with his clothes and under the

covers. Jim took off his own clothes, and spooned behind his friend,

gently putting his arms around him. They fell asleep, snuggled against

each other, secure in their love.

Jim Ellison woke slowly the next morning, a soft weight on his chest,

something tickling him. As he gradually awoke, he realized that Blair

was sprawled out over him, his hair trailing down Jim's chest. With a

contented sigh, Jim began to pet the silky hair, trailing his fingers

through it, wrapping it around his fingers.

Blair lifted his head, and looked into Jim's eyes. They smiled at

each other, a look full of love and the wonderful things to come. The

phone rang.

"Ellison," Jim said into the phone. "Uh, is it really April 14th? Oh,

God, Cynthia, I've been so busy with a case...sure, I can be there by

ten-thirty, but I've never gotten a chance to go through everything.

I'll just have to pile it in a shoebox or something." Jim flinched

from the noises coming from the phone. "I'm sorry, really I am, but

I've been so busy...yes, it was The Butcher Case. It's over... You

sure you don't mind? Okay, see you in a little while."

Blair looked at Jim with concern in his eyes. "You okay, Big Guy,"

he asked.

Smiling down at his friend, Jim said, "I'm fine, Chief. Just got to

get my tax records together, and take them over to Cynthia. Er, um,

she wasn't pleased that I don't have things pulled together, but she

said she understood, and would try to finish the return by tomorrow.

Guess we'll make that Maui trip next month, after all!"

"We?" Blair asked.

"You think I would go without you? Anyway, I'll change it to a one

bedroom; the money saved by doing that will help pay for your plane

ticket."

Blair sighed contentedly. "God, Jim, I can't wait."

Neither can I, Chief, neither can I."

At that moment, in her office, Cynthia pushed a stray lock of hair

behind her ear and grimaced. Another late filer!! Another shoebox!!

"Man, I need a vacation," she said. "Yes, Detective Ellison, I'll

get your return finished by tomorrow. But you'll pay, oh, yes,

you'll pay!! Should just about cover a trip to Hawaii..."

Finis~~~

Cynthia Selene