Archive of Our Own ^beta

Not mine, making no money, intending no copyright infringement.

Part of the SAC-2003 at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2003.
Much thanks to flaming muse for a very speedy beta outside of her preferred fandom!

Sappy little thing inspired, of all things, by the Cookie Monster/Grover/Harry Monster rendition of "Blue Christmas."

Jim sat on the sofa in the soft glow from the table-top tree, listening to the holiday music of laughter, carols, clinking glasses, and tearing paper from elsewhere in the building and beyond.

But instead of having thoughts of good cheer and sugar plums, he was thinking that this was turning out to be the worst Christmas Eve he'd ever had. And that was saying something.

And it was unexpected as well. Christmas on his own was nothing new for him, and had never been a problem before. He avoided holiday parties, the noise and the bright of them; he didn't have family of the holiday-visiting variety...

So when Sandburg had asked Jim if he minded if he took a quick trip to northern California to see Naomi, who was visiting friends for a few weeks, he said no problem.

And when Simon told him to take off Christmas this year and enjoy the peace and quiet without Sandburg, he said thanks.

How was he supposed to know that just as there was often no peace with the kid, there was no peace without him either?

He'd slept fitfully the night before, feeling the emptiness of the loft to a degree that he had never experienced before. All day at the precinct he was restless, and though he tried to respond to everyone's season's greetings he noticed more than a few strange looks. He dialed down his hearing after catching a few muttered 'Sandburg' references.

After all, he couldn't be feeling this badly because of Sandburg, could he? It was just the normal melancholy of the season; it had to be.

Because, sitting here alone, Jim could admit to himself that he wasn't just lonely for a friend, for someone to chat with while making supper and scold about towels on the floor. It was a bone-deep longing for an absent lover.

So it had to just be a generalized feeling of needing *some*one. It couldn't be Sandburg he was missing -- that wasn't how they felt about each other. Right? Right.

Right?

Aggravated with himself, Jim turned on the TV and began idly flipping through the channels, hoping for a distraction from the direction of his musings. It didn't help -- each program had him thinking about how Blair would find this historical documentary interesting or find the commercialization of that holiday special appalling...

Wasn't there anything that didn't make him think of Sandburg today? Apparently not A Christmas Carol... the Ghost of Christmas Present was showing Mr Scrooge how the Cratchits were celebrating, and all he could think of was Blair, spending time with Naomi instead of being here, home with Jim, where he... belonged.

And Jim turned off the TV again, and thought of the Ghost of Christmas Future, and wondered how long he'd been fooling himself, how long he'd repressed these feelings for his Guide.

Because he realized now that a future without Blair was bleak indeed... and the futures he envisioned with Blair that kept him in his downstairs room alone were much less appealing than those that featured the now seemingly logical extension of their partnership.

Heaving a deep sigh, Jim stretched out on the sofa, knowing that there was no way he'd get to sleep tonight, just tossing and turning in his own bed. He felt emotionally drained and wanted nothing more than to forget, at least for a little while, about the whole mess.

He stared into the small lights of the tree, trying to clear his mind. Jim felt himself skate the edge of a zone and pulled himself back, not really caring so much on his own behalf but knowing Blair would feel guilty if Jim zoned after Blair had left him alone.

It always came back to Blair... Jim's whole life was tied up in Blair, and he didn't even feel threatened by that anymore.

No, he didn't want Blair to feel guilty... but he wasn't really sure he was ready to think about what he did want Blair to feel. His stomach clenched at the idea of bringing up the subject of their relationship. What if Blair didn't share his feelings? What if he did? Trite, but applicable.

Too much thinking -- Blair wasn't due back for nearly two days, so he didn't have to worry about it yet. Closing his eyes, Jim tried once more to let go of his thoughts, focusing his hearing on a nearby party. The joyful sounds didn't seem as depressing this time, and he was finally able to fall into a light doze.

A doze that left him rather muddled when he woke to the sound of a key in the door. He wasn't entirely certain that he hadn't conjured the image of his Guide from his dreams, standing in the doorway, looking at him with a small but infinitely tender smile.

"Blair?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to break the spell, but very sleepily confused.

Blair shrugged slightly and stepped nearer the sofa as Jim sat up. "I had to come home."

Jim was satisfied that Blair was really there, but was unsure whether he was imagining what he thought he heard in Blair's tone. "Why, Chief?" he said in a voice almost embarrassingly husky.

Blair sat down next to his partner, almost but not quite touching. "Because I missed you," he admitted.

Jim reached out a hand and skimmed it across Blair's features, brushing his fingertips over Blair's full lips. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

"Merry Christmas, Blair," he said, trying to put all he was feeling into his voice and onto his face, hoping Blair could read there what Jim couldn't yet say.

An answering smile broke over Blair's face like the light of Christmas dawn, and Jim could see that Blair was saying the very same thing.

"Merry Christmas, Jim," Blair said into Jim's neck as he was drawn into a tight, welcoming embrace.

End Ghosts & Revelations by ainm: [email protected]

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