SquidgeWorld Archive

"Deck the halls..." Blair sang along with the Christmasy music coming from the radio, his smoky voice a nice companion to the woman's voice coming from the speaker. "...let's be jolly... Rockin around the Christmas tree in the new, old fashioned waaaay."

Blair waited until he was in a straight patch of road before taking one hand cautiously off the wheel and turning the radio off. As much fun as singing holiday songs was, he needed to be able to concentrate on the road more. He flicked the switch and turned the windshield wipers up a little. The snow was coming down stronger than it had been, but Blair wasn't worried, not really. There wasn't enough snow out to be a problem, but he didn't want to risk it. Jim would be worried enough anyway...

Brrrt.

"Right on time." Blair grinned as he pushed a button on his cell phone. It was a newer model with a gadget attachment that connected it to the tiny headphone Blair was wearing. In this way, Blair could talk without taking having to actually hold the phone. Safer that way and it made talking on the cell phone while driving, legal in most states.

"Hi, Big Guy."

"Chief, are you alright?" Jim's worried voice came through the line with crystal clarity. Thank goodness for the newer cell phones and the better reception they had. The Sentinel didn't seem surprised that Blair knew who was on the phone without asking.

"I'm just fine, Jim." Blair slowed down to maneuver around a curve in the road.

"I want you to stay put, I'm coming to get you," Jim said and Blair could practically hear the Blessed Protector mode shift into overdrive. He bit his lip and winced; this would be interesting.

"It's too late, I'm already more than halfway back to Cascade." Blair winced as he heard Jim cursing. "I knew the weather was supposed to change and decided to head back early and beat the bad weather." Looking out at the falling snow, he sighed. "I didn't make it."

"Chief, is there any place you can pull over? I don't like you out like this, not in your condition."

Blair touched his rounded tummy with a smile and double checked that the seat belt was tucked under his stomach properly. He was a little over six months pregnant and Jim had hovered over him since the day the test results came back positive. Indeed, everybody had hovered over him.

A man being pregnant wasn't impossible, just not that common. The male had to have the right combination of genes and mate with another male with the right combination of compatible genes for a baby to form. Blair might not know who his father was, but apparently he and Naomi were the right combination.

Looking at the lonely, narrow road Blair shook his head, even though he knew Jim couldn't see it. "No, there really isn't. I don't even see a driveway to pull over on to and there isn't a shoulder at all." He sighed. "I'm doing fine though; the snow isn't very heavy yet. I should make it to Cascade before it gets too bad."

Jim sighed loudly through the phone. Blair could hear him talking to someone, most probably Simon. "Damn. Where are you anyway?" The question was asked suspiciously, like Blair had deliberately placed himself in danger, *just* to worry his bondmate.

"Don't sound like that Jim," Blair teased and was rewarded with a small laugh. "I'm on County Road 180, just past Twinling. I thought that it was better to take a back road and get home quicker than risk the Interstate."

"Good thinking, Chief. There have been two major accidents there already; one where a tractor trailer jackknifed on an overpass."

Blair winced in sympathy. "Was anybody killed?" He slowed down a little, because the snow seemed to be picking up. Damn, he knew he shouldn't have tempted the fates by saying the snow wasn't too bad, that was like saying things couldn't get any worse; they always did right afterwards.

"No, no deaths, but there were some serious injuries." Jim hesitated and Blair waited, wondering what he wanted. "Chief, where are you exactly?"

"Uhm..." Blair slowed down even further and peered at the side of the road where he could just make out a tiny white sign. "I'm just passing marker number 128."

"Okay." Jim's voice was muffled for a moment as he passed the information on to Simon. "Is talking with me bothering you?"

Blair smiled again. "No, I'm fine."

"Good," Jim sounded relieved and Blair was glad to reassure him. It would have worried Jim half to death to not talk to Blair, but he certainly wouldn't risk distracting him. "So, how did the visit with Naomi go?"

"Fine, she sends her love, by the way." For the next several minutes Blair talked about the few hours he spent with his mother and Jim listened. Then Blair listened while Jim regaled him with some of the funnier things that had happened at the station. Blair missed going to work with Jim, but since "the pregnancy" Blair was not allowed anywhere near the PD, unless it was for a brief visit with his friends. Even then, Jim double checked to make sure there weren't any perps lurking around, ready to attack him. Blair would have laughed when Jim did that, but...well, let's be honest, Blair had been hurt there on more than one occasion.

"I just passed marker 150," Blair informed his husband. He turned a corner and gasped as the wind picked up and a wall of snow flew right across the windshield, momentarily blinding the young Guide.

"Chief?" Jim's voice rose in worry.

"I-I'm okay." Blair's own voice was shaky. "The snow is really picking up now." If Blair could've he would have pulled over and let Jim come get him. The pickup was heavier and could navigate the roads better than his Corvair.

"I'm coming out, right now. We'll meet you partway and worry about the car later."

Before Blair could agree, the car bumped over something, making Blair gasp. There was a loud bang and the car veered sharply to the right. Blair yelled out, "JIM!" just before the Corvair went off the road, straight down into the ditch and slammed to a halt. Blair bounced up and down during the short ride before slamming into the steering wheel, head first.

*****

"uhng."

Blair's head and chest hurt, it felt like someone was hitting him in the head with a hammer. "j-jim." There was no answer, in fact there was an overwhelming silence and Blair almost panicked, thinking that he had gone deaf. "Jim," he called again. Blair relaxed when he heard his own voice; obviously he wasn't deaf if he could hear himself speaking.

The injured man opened his eyes and wondered what he was seeing. The white had to be snow, but what was snow doing in the loft. Did they have a break in the skylight? Movement outside the window made Blair look up...into a pair of bright blue eyes. Blair was too confused to be very startled. Confused and really, really cold. He shivered and moaned as the rest of his body made its injuries known.

"Son, are you alright?"

Blair opened his eyes again. 'And when did I close them?' Blair thought distractedly. The older gentleman had put a gloved hand on Blair's shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

"Uh huh," Blair said brilliantly. The man was standing inside the open car doorway. Blair wondered how he got the door open; he always kept it locked when he was driving. 'Oh wait, a car door. I was out driving, that explains the snow then.' The young man was dizzily pleased to have solved that puzzle.

A warm hand rubbed gently along Blair's neck and down his back. He didn't feel odd about the personal touch under his coat; Blair knew that the other man was checking him over for injuries. "The baby?" Blair tried to move his arms and check on his unborn child, but he couldn't make anything move right now.

The man's hand slipped to the front of his coat and gently felt his tummy. "Are you hurting?" he asked anxiously. Blair thought for a moment and then decided that his abdomen was one of the few places that wasn't hurting.

"N-no."

"Good," he smiled. "I think the baby is fine. All right, your neck and back aren't hurt either, so I'm going to lean you back now."

Blair didn't wonder how he could be so sure that Blair was uninjured, but something about the man made Blair trust him. The Guide cried out as pain shot from his fingertips to his shoulder. He opened his eyes as saw that his right arm had been shoved in between the open spaces on the steering wheel. He whimpered and leaned back against the arm supporting his back as the older man gently extracted his throbbing arm from its trap.

"I'm so sorry, little one. You were laying on your arm and I didn't see that it was stuck." Even his voice was reassuring, warm and calm.

"It'sssss okay." Why was he slurring his words and why was it getting dark all of the sudden?

"You're going to be okay." Blair looked over at the white haired man. "I'll take care of you." And Blair believed him as he slid into unconsciousness.

*****

Simon was hanging on to the shoulder strap of the seat belt for dear life. He had made the mistake of getting in the car with Jim and letting the semi-hysterical Sentinel drive. 'Semi-hysterical, my ass,' he thought with a shake of his head. 'Full on hysterical is more like it.'

Since Blair's cell phone had gone dead there had been a general air of panic in the bullpen. Simon glanced behind them and saw a straggling line of vehicles that the rescuers were driving behind Jim's truck.

The Captain had been sitting behind his desk when Blair's yell had come through the phone line. He had hurried over to stand beside his friend and watched as Ellison screamed for his husband. In less than three minutes, he, Jim and several of their friends had been racing down the road.

Simon glanced over and watched as Jim strangled the steering wheel. He started to reassure the Sentinel that Blair would be fine, but decided that empty promises would only irritate the upset man. Closing his eyes in prayer, Simon asked God to protect the young observer and the child he was carrying.

*****

The crackle of a fire was what Blair could hear; he had been wondering what that sound was for a long time. At least, it seemed like a long time to the semi-conscious man. Blair opened his eyes and gazed around lazily.

"I'm glad to see that you are finally awake."

Blair turned his head and looked over at the elderly gentleman who was sitting beside him. "Who are you?" His brain wasn't running on full speed yet.

"I'm Rudy Pringle." The man waited for Blair's eyes to look less cloudy. "I helped you out of your car."

Blair licked his lips and winced as pain jumped out of the bottom right hand side of his mouth. "I remember now; I was in a car wreck."

"That's right." Rudy beamed when Blair remembered.

"What was your name again?" Blair looked at the man, his face was partially hidden in shadows and only the flickering light from the fireplace illuminated bits and pieces. "I'm sorry, but I can't remember."

"That's alright." He smiled amiably. "I'm Rudy. Actually, my real name is Rudolph. Can you believe it?" He laughed. "My wife calls me Rudy though."

"Th-that's not too bad," Blair said breathlessly. He coughed, because the cold air was irritating his lungs.

"No, it's a lot better than some of the nicknames I've had over the years." He and Blair shared a smile.

Blair could certainly understand about nicknames. He was Darwin, Guppy, Hairboy, Chief and those were just the most recent nicknames and the ones that he wasn't nauseated to admit to.

"Wh-where are we?" It hurt to talk and the side of his head was cold and throbbing. It was only then that Blair noticed that Rudy was holding something cold to the side of his face.

"I saw a cabin, not too far from your car, and brought you here. Nobody's home," Rudy glanced around the mostly dark room, "but I don't think the owner's will mind us borrowing the use of their couch and fire. It is an emergency after all."

"Uh huh." Blair shivered and moaned when the movement jarred his aching arm. "I'm cold. My leg is really cold."

"I know, I'm sorry about that. You've got a bad cut on your left leg. I don't have any covers on it, because whenever your leg warms up, it starts bleeding again."

Rudy took the cold *whatever* off of his face. Blair looked down and could see that it was a handkerchief with what he thought was an icicle wrapped inside. The older man piled another blanket on to the several that were already on Blair.

"That should help."

"Okay." Blair smiled and the other man smiled back. "Thank you for your help."

Rudy waved a hand negligently. "I'm just glad I was there. I'm in distributing and was making some early rounds; getting ready for Christmas, you know. I don't think you were in the ditch for very long before I got there, because there wasn't very much snow on the car yet."

"That's good." Blair took a deep, shaky breath and let it out. A small puff of cold air fogged up the air in front of his face. "I don't think I would have lasted very long in this cold weather."

"No, I don't either. Hey...don't go to sleep now, son." He shook Blair's good shoulder carefully. "It looks like you have a concussion and you shouldn't sleep with one."

"I know," Blair admitted. "I've have concussions before."

"You have?" Rudy looked at him askance. "Concussions, as in plural." He frowned when Blair nodded yes. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a graduate student and teaching fellow," Blair said as he struggled to keep awake.

"Darn, students must be tougher than I thought, if you are getting head injuries."

Blair laughed and winced as his head started throbbing. Gingerly, he raised his left hand and touched the opposite side of his head. Again, he winced and pulled away a hand that now had blood on the fingers.

"No, don't touch." Rudy wiped the blood off. "You have a scrape at the hairline. Nothing really to worry about, but scalp injuries tend to bleed a lot."

"Yeah." Blair tried to remember what they had been talking about. "I'm also an observer with the Cascade PD. That's where I get hurt sometimes. Not often though, because Jim takes good care of...Jim!" Blair's eyes widened dramatically and then snapped shut as the shout made his head explode with pain.

"Calm down or you're going to make yourself sick," Rudy said worriedly and a little harshly when he saw Blair's complexion turn a pale green color. "Was there someone else in the car with you? I didn't see anybody."

"No..." Blair struggled to keep down the cream cheese Danish that he had eaten at the airport earlier. "No, I was alone, but I was on the cell phone with my husband, Jim, when I had the wreck. Oh damn, he'll be scared to death."

"Did he know where you were at?" Rudy asked calmly, feeling better now that he knew he hadn't missed another accident victim.

"Yes, he had just said that he wanted me to pull over when...what happened anyway?" Everything was so confusing.

"From the looks of it, your front tire blew out." That was an understatement; the tire was in shreds where it had exploded so forcefully.

Blair thought a minute. "Yes, I think you're right. I seem to remember running over something just before the car went out of control." He tried to sit up, but Rudy put a restraining hand on his chest and stopped Blair before he could even get started.

"And where do you think you're going?" Rudy asked in a bemused voice.

"I have to get my phone and call Jim back." All Blair could think about was letting Jim know that he was alright. Of course, trying to sit up had made Blair aware of even more injuries and so, 'alright' wasn't really true.

"Blair," the older man placed the cool compress back on Blair's face and the anthropologist had to admit that it helped the aching. "I would imagine that Jim is on his way here already and since Cascade isn't that far away, it probably won't be much longer."

"Okay," Blair tried to relax and floated in his mind for a few minutes. Rudy seemed content to let him, as long as Blair didn't try to go back to sleep.

"I like your outfit," Rudy's voice pulled Blair out of his almost-doze.

"Uhm," he looked down at the festively red and green clothes. "Thanks."

"Yes, very seasonal." The older man tucked the blankets more firmly around Blair's shoulders.

"Yeah, but if it gets any colder, I'm gonna freeze." Blair shivered at the cold and wished he hadn't lost his hat somewhere.

"Too true. I'll have to call you Little Boy Blue then." Blair laughed. He appreciated the humor, it kept the situation from becoming too grim.

"Sooo, when are you due?"

Blair rolled his head on the couch cushion and looked over at Rudy. He had almost fallen asleep again and it took a moment for the question to filter through his foggy brain. "What? Oh, uhm, the middle of March."

"Oh, that's nice." The older man smiled congenially and Blair felt safe under the friendly look. "Do you know what it is yet?" He nodded towards Blair's concealed stomach.

"No, not yet." Blair patted his tummy with his uninjured hand. "I'm supposed to have a sonogram right before Christmas."

"Ah, and what are you hoping for?"

"I don't care. A little girl would be nice, but so would a little boy. I just want the baby to be healthy...and okay." Blair swallowed hard, scared again that the baby had been hurt in the wreck. At that exact moment, the fetus decided to make itself known and gave its injured parent a kick.

Blair laughed. "Ooof. I guess the baby is okay." Another kick and he giggled in relief.

Rudy pulled off one of his gloves and placed a warm hand on Blair's stomach. He closed his eyes and concentrated. "Yes, he's fine."

"He?" Blair's eyebrows shot up.

"Uh oh, sorry if I've spoiled the surprise." Rudy looked contrite.

"How can you be sure it's a boy?" Blair believed him, even though there was no reason the older man should be so certain.

"Well...let's just say that I have a knack for knowing these things." Rudy patted Blair's tummy one last time before putting his red leather gloves back on.

*****

The snow was coming down a lot faster now; the sides of the road were rapidly filling up with white, powdery flakes. It had been almost 45 minutes since Blair's abruptly ended phone call had sent them on this chase. Normally the trip wouldn't have taken half that time. 'Especially the way Jim drives,' Simon thought ruefully. But the road conditions had steadily worsened the farther that they had come and the group of rescuers had been forced to go slower and slower.

"There it is!" Simon called out when he saw the #150 mile marker. Normally he wouldn't need to point that out to the vision enhanced Sentinel, but right now Simon wanted Jim to concentrate on the road and his driving and not peering at the side of the dark road. The captain leaned forward in his seat, searching desperately into the dark night for Blair's car.

Jim didn't acknowledge the statement, he was too busy panicking. 'Why can't things ever be easy for us?' he wondered. "I can't lose them, Simon."

Simon turned towards his friend and grabbed hold of the rock hard shoulder. 'Damn, Jim is wound up so tight, he's going to be sore for days.' Out loud he said, "You aren't going to lose them, Jim."

Anything else that might have been said was lost in the two men's fright when they saw Blair's Corvair lodged in the ditch. Jim slammed to a stop; the back tires of the heavy truck slid for a second before jerking to a stop. Behind them, Simon could hear the rest of the convoy screeching to a halt too.

Jim jumped out of the cab of the truck and practically dove down into the ditch. "Blair!" he yelled, as he slid into the side of the car and began frantically pulling on the door handle.

Simon followed as fast as he could without breaking his leg and wasn't reassured by what he saw. The older car, Blair's 'classic', was nose down in the ditch, it's hood and both front fenders were crumpled up like an accordion. The snow had covered most of the back of the car and Simon sent up a quick prayer of thankfulness. 'Damn. If Blair hadn't been on the phone with Jim when this happened, there's no telling how long it would have been before he would've been found.'

"He's not in here." Jim had finally yanked the driver's side door open. Inside, Simon could see streaks of blood on the steering wheel, which was bent at an odd angle, and on the driver's side window.

"Crap!" Simon turned and looked back at their friends and fellow detectives who were waiting anxiously on the snowy road. "He's not in the car. Spread out and start searching."

Flashlight beams began to dart around the landscape as everyone started to look for the missing anthropologist. If he had been injured badly, like it appeared, and wandered off in a daze, Blair could freeze to death in the middle of a drift. As bad as this freak snowstorm was, he could be lying ten feet from them and they'd never even know it.

"What did he have on?" Henri Brown yelled down anxiously. They all shivered as a gust of wind blew across the road and looked around even more frantically, knowing that one of their own, an injured and very vulnerable one, was lost in this mess.

"Jim, what was Blair wearing?" Silence was all that came back. Simon peered down at Jim and squinted to see the detective in the scant light coming from the interior of the car. 'Damn, we can't afford for him to have a zone out now,' Simon thought in frustration.

"Jim!" The yell had the desired effect and Jim's light blue eyes finally focused on Simon. "Jim," he went on in a softer tone, "what was Blair wearing today?"

Ellison thought for a moment. "He had on a dark green parka, scarf and hat. They were lined with that fake fur, uh...and he had on a red sweat outfit." Jim smiled for a second. "His Christmas clothes," he said quietly.

Simon nodded and turned to relay the information to the rest of the searchers. Nobody said anything, they were all too intent on finding the pregnant man before it was too late, but they were all thinking the same thing. 'Green and red would stand out against the white of the snow; they might actually find their friend before he died of exposure.'

Jim climbed up to stand beside Simon on the roadside. "Can you sense anything?" Banks asked even as he was shining his own flashlight around the landscape.

"I'm not sure." Ellison took a deep breath, but all he could smell was Blair's blood inside the car. "Damn! All I can smell is..." he waved a hand towards the car.

"Hmmm." Simon thought for a moment. "Could you follow the trail of blood?" The captain winced when he realized that he had just asked his friend to become a bloodhound.

Jim closed his eyes in pain and Simon followed suit. Neither man wanted to think of Blair so injured that he had left a trail of blood behind. Jim turned in a circle, sending his senses out in every direction. His eyes fluttered a moment before Ellison turned and pointed across the field just past the damaged car.

"That direction," Jim said as he took off, down into the ditch he had just climbed out of, up the opposite side and out into the field.

Simon turned to let the others know that Jim had found something and saw that they were already following the Sentinel. Jim's gifts weren't publicly acknowledged, but the police detectives were just that, detectives, and they had seen what Ellison could do. The police captain hurried after his good friend, hoping they would be in time.

*****

Blair shivered and burrowed into the back of the couch a little more in an attempt to get warmer. It didn't work and Blair looked over to ask Rudy if there were any more blankets...but he wasn't there! The Guide looked around the room, wondering where his new friend had gone, but he couldn't find anyone.

"Oh crap," Blair exclaimed quietly. "I hope he hasn't gone for help, the weather is too bad..." he trailed off in confusion. "But wouldn't I have felt the cold from when he opened the door?" Blair rubbed his aching head as he tried to figure the mystery out.

The door flew open, making Blair jump in surprise. He looked up, expecting to see Rudy coming back and saw his husband instead. "Jim."

"Blair," Jim cried as he rushed forward. The Sentinel dropped to one knee beside the couch. Flakes of snow made an interesting pattern on Blair's blankets. "Oh, thank heavens we found you." He leaned over and clutched the injured man. Blair shivered when Jim's cold, wet face met his. Jim, in turn, looked worriedly at Blair, who's own face was very chilly.

"Ji-im," Blair whimpered and leaned closer to his bondmate. "I'm so glad you're here."

"You're safe now, Chief." Jim had to consciously work not to crush his injured spouse too tightly in his relief. "You're not alone anymore."

"I wasn't alone, Jim," Blair slurred, obviously loosing the battle with unconsciousness. "Rudy was here."

"Rudy?" Jim glanced around the room and didn't see anyone. He cast out his net of senses and didn't find anybody. Ellison looked back at Blair and noticed the glassy look in his eyes and was worried that the younger man had been hallucinating. "Chief, nobody's here."

"He...must have gone for help then," Blair said exhaustedly. "You...you have to look for him. I don't want him to get lost in the storm."

Jim started to argue, to tell Blair that there wasn't any sign that anyone had ever been there, but he decided that could wait until Blair was better. There was some faint evidence of *one* person struggling through the snow, not two. And inside the cabin there was only a trail of frozen footsteps leading to the couch, nothing more.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine."

Blair nodded and smiled dreamily at the Sentinel. The Guide was confident that his husband would handle any problems.

*****

Simon hurried in the door, out of breath and carrying Blair's lost hat. Jim had spotted the green wool about 25 feet from the damaged car, it was from there that Ellison had seen the cabin and taken off at a dead run. The rest of the searchers had raced along behind as best they could.

The police captain was glad to see that Blair was awake and somewhat oriented. But he was worried to see the blood covering one side of the observer's face from a cut at his temple. His mouth on that side of his head was swollen and bruised; Simon surmised that that's where he hit the steering wheel. Simon moved closer to the couple and could see a nasty gash on Blair's left leg; it looked to be seven or eight inches long to him.

As he listened to Blair ramble on about his *good Samaritan*, the Captain looked around the cabin. Jim was right there wasn't anybody else in the small structure. But that didn't explain everything...

There was a fire blazing in the fireplace. How did Blair manage that with a bleeding head and hurt arm and leg?

Several blankets covered the young man's freezing form. Where did the anthropologist find those?

Simon turned and watched as Jim picked up his husband and carried him out the door. Outside, the captain could see that Brown had driven his four wheel drive Jeep up to the front of the cabin. Ellison carefully place the now unconscious Blair in the front seat and they took off down the rutted driveway.

Banks picked up the handkerchief that Blair had been using as a compress against his face. There were some initials in one corner, besides the festive holly berry embroidery. They read *CRK*.

Simon wondered who CRK was. It was entirely possible that he was whomever owned the cabin and Blair just found the handkerchief lying around somewhere. But...that was a lot of running around for the injured man to have done. From the looks of Blair's injuries, Simon was surprised Blair was able to even extract himself from the car, let alone get up the incline and across to the cabin, which you couldn't quite see from the road. So, how did Blair know it was there? The trail led straight to the small building.

Standing on the small, covered porch, Simon looked up and saw several icicles hanging from the roof edge. One of them had been broken off. Simon opened the kerchief and looked. 'Yep, it's a match,' he thought. The Captain frowned and reached up a hand. He could reach the icy overhang, but only barely. There was no way that the much shorter Blair could have gotten to it, especially not with his injured leg.

A horn tooted and Simon saw that Rafe had driven his vehicle partway down the driveway and was waiting to take Simon back to Jim's truck. Banks hurried along, pulling his coat tighter around his neck. Banks jumped into Rafe's car and rode back to Jim's 1969 truck. He would drive the blue and white vehicle back to Cascade for his best friend.

'I don't care who or what happened here today, I'm just glad that Blair is safe,' Simon thought to himself. 'I can recognize a miracle when I see one.'

*****

The bed bounced a little and then dipped as someone sat down. Blair frowned as gravity rolled him towards the intruder. "Go 'way," he said grumpily.

'Jim's laughter is a nice alarm clock,' Blair thought and decided it was worth waking up to see the smile on his face. He was right.

"I thought you were never going to get up, sleepyhead." Jim pushed some hair out of Blair's eyes and the pregnant man sighed happily.

"It's too early to get up," Blair intoned and closed his eyes, preparatory to sleeping in a little longer.

"Oh no you don't." Jim reached under the covers and jiggled Blair's leg a little. "It's 10:30...on Christmas Day!" He tickled behind the knee and Blair giggled. "All good boys and girls need to open their presents." Blair cracked open one eye and just looked at him. "And yes we are *good* boys." Jim grinned and slid his hand a little higher on Blair's leg. "Now, come on."

Jim removed his tempting hand and Blair glared at him. The Sentinel smiled back unrepentantly. "Okay, if you are that impatient."

Blair let Jim give him a hand getting out of bed. The wound on his leg and his cracked wrist kept the anthropologist from being able to maneuver himself very easily. That was why they were sleeping downstairs in Blair's old bedroom; his leg wouldn't stand up to climbing stairs just yet and by the time it would Blair was going to be too far along in his pregnancy to do much climbing. So, they were staying in the tiny bedroom for the duration.

He limped into the living room, leaning against Jim...maybe a little more than he had to, but hey, neither one of them was complaining. Once Blair was settled comfortably on the couch with a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk and a poppy seed muffin, just for a snack don't you know, Jim plopped down in front of the Christmas tree and began rooting among the presents.

"Hmm, now which one should you get first?" Jim smirked as he considered the possibilities. "I..."

There was a knock at the door. Jim and Blair looked at the door in surprise. "Who in the world..." Blair started and then he looked back at the Sentinel with a gasp. "Jim? Didn't you hear anybody?" Crap, this wasn't good.

"Noooo." Jim tilted his head and assumed his listening pose. "And I still don't hear anyone."

The Blessed Protector made sure he was between the door and his family when he carefully opened the mottled green door. Just as he had stated, there was nobody there. Blair frowned and wondered what was going on. "Do you think somebody was using a white noise generator?" The idea frightened Blair, because that usually meant trouble; something he wanted to avoid at all costs right now.

"I don't think so, Chief. I can usually tell that there is an absence of noise in that case."

Jim was starting to shut the door when Blair glanced down and noticed something on the floor. "Hey, Jim, wait a minute. What's that?"

Ellison picked up the small package and shut the door. Using his enhanced senses, Jim decided there was nothing dangerous in the box. "It says, 'To Little Boy Blue'." He laughed at the odd salutation.

"Little Boy Blue!" Blair exclaimed. "That's me!"

"What?" Despite his confusion, Jim brought the box over to the seated young man.

"That was a joke between Rudy and me," Blair grabbed hold of the colorfully wrapped box and started to tear off the paper. He smacked Jim lightly on the arm. "See, I said there was someone at that cabin; someone who saved me and the baby."

Jim didn't say anything. There had been several inconsistencies in what happened that day.

Blair pulled out a pair of baby booties. They looked like little black Santa boots and had a red-nosed Rudolph the reindeer on each toe. A note was tucked inside the box. Jim unfolded it and read it aloud.

*Blair,
I'm happy that everything turned out alright. Sorry I had to leave so suddenly.
Here's a little present for the baby...I told you it was a boy.
Merry Christmas!*

It was signed Christopher Rudolph Kringle.

Jim's mouth was hanging open in surprise. "There's a post script," he said in a dazed.

*Sorry I had to lie son, but I couldn't tell you my real name, now could I?*

Blair laughed in delight. "I knew there was something special about him." He stuck the booties on the end of his fingers and waggled them at Jim. "Did you know, Jim, that Rudolph means 'famous wolf' in German?" Blair smiled at the wolf connection.

Jim watched his husband admiring the present and looked down at the tummy that was partially covered with fleece and layers of flannel. He knew that if Rudy hadn't helped Blair then the young man and the baby he was carrying would have frozen to death in the crashed car. The Sentinel was somewhat surprised at how easily he accepted the truth. "Yeah, Chief, he was very special indeed."

Blair leaned forward and pulled Jim towards him for a kiss. "Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, my love," Jim returned. After they had kissed, he looked towards the balcony windows and whispered. "Merry Christmas, Santa."