Title: THE BENCH
Author/pseudonym: Candy Apple 
Email address: blair_lady@yahoo.com
Rating: E- 
Pairings: J/B

Status: NEW, complete
Date: 08-16-00
Archive: YES
Archive author: Candy Apple 
Archive email address: blair_lady@yahoo.com
Series/Sequel: NOPE.


Disclaimers: I don't own the guys.  No infringement intended on the
right of those who do--unless rampant jealousy counts.

Notes: Just a short piece Jim felt like telling.  

Summary:   Jim shares his reflections on falling in love with Blair.

Warnings: Not much explicit action, nothing fancy.  Just Jim telling a
story.  

*******************************************************

THE BENCH

by 

Candy Apple


     As stories of great revelations of love go, mine will probably
never make it to the top of the charts.  I realized I was in love with
Blair one day as I walked out of Sears, carrying a bag of new socks,
and he was sitting on a bench in the hall of the shopping center, waiting
for me.  We'd split up to cover a couple different stores--he had to *put
down roots* in the book store while I shopped for frivolous things like
underwear, socks and a replacement pot for the coffee maker.  The
original was totaled last night when yours truly, James Ellison,
Sentinel, can-shoot-a-gnat-mid-air-at-forty-paces, misjudged the toss of
a wadded up dish towel and knocked the damn thing on the floor. 
Sometimes all Sentinel senses are good for is finding glass particles on
the floor before they end up in the bottom of your feet.  

     Blair was just sitting there, a fat plastic bag from said book
store by his side.  I gave him a gift certificate from there for his
birthday, and he's been hoarding it like a squirrel with one nut left in
the middle of a blizzard.  

     He's unemployed right now, and just recently got the final axe
of academic dismissal from Rainier.  I think their review committee
was a fucking joke--a bunch of Chancellor Edwards' puppets.  The idea
was to determine if he could remain in the doctoral program, despite
losing his fellowship based on the whole press conference fiasco.  Of
course, they hadn't bothered to mention how he was supposed to pay
for it, but like everything else lately, that was *his problem*.  I'm not
sure why I was even a bit surprised that the verdict was dismissal from
the program.  When you're down, people tend to kick you, and this was
no exception.  

     Of course he could always go through the police academy.  I
took him to the gym and sort of walked through a few of the things
they put you through at the academy, and he did all right.  Since the
drowning, it seems like he gets winded a little faster, but maybe that's
my imagination.  He certainly could make it through the physical
training.  

     Then we went to the shooting range, and I watched him practice
a few shots with my gun.  I don't remember ever in my life seeing
anyone look as miserable while trying to put on a neutral face.  Blair
still jumps at gunfire--albeit less noticeably, and definitely
involuntarily.  He could be a good shooter, but he's not happy with a
gun in his hands.

     We decided together that the academy wasn't the answer either. 
Which leaves him where he was at the beginning of my rambling--sitting 
on a bench in the mall with the only purchase he could afford--one he 
didn't have to pay for.  It never occurred to me to ask him if he
had what he needed, or if he needed money to buy something.  I don't
want to make him feel demeaned or dependent, but at the same time,
it's sort of pointless to drag someone to the mall on errands when he
doesn't have two nickels to rub together.

     He's sent out resumes, and applied for a few jobs that are
beneath his brains and his talent.  I'm still working on Simon to create a
position at the PD for him.  Blair did some damn fine work for that
department, without compensation and at great personal risk.  He
protected one of their own--yours truly--by declaring himself a fraud. 
Ironically, that's part of why Chief Warren vetoes all of Simon's ideas
for hiring Blair in a civilian capacity which would entail creating a new
position, which would mean more money out of the budget.  But hey,
it's just some guy who gave up his professional life to protect the life
and safety of a police officer.  I guess Warren doesn't know that,
though.  Blair just about popped an artery when I said I was going to
talk to the brass and tell them the real score.  Simon had a similar
reaction.  So here we are.  I'm still a cop, and Blair's unemployed.  That
sucks, and I make no promises how long I'm going to sit back and
*not* blow into Warren's office and lay the whole thing out for him.  

     So Blair's sitting on a bench in the mall, watching the people,
then smiling that beautiful smile of his and playing with a baby in a
stroller parked next to him as the child's mother finally succumbs to
fatigue and drops onto the other end of the bench piling up her
purchases in the empty space between them.  The baby's fascinated by
Blair.  It's a boy, wearing denim overalls and a red t-shirt, with a little
blond hair and a completely toothless grin.  Blair's whole life is nothing
but a pile of rubble, and he's laughing and making idiotic faces at this
baby, and the kid's laughing and wiggling around, happy as a clam.  

     Then Blair looked up at me, and for a moment, his smile got
just a little bigger, and a little...*softer* somehow.  His eyes lit up as
they fixed on me, and he slid down as much as he could to make room
for me on the end of the bench.  I sat down, with my arm behind him,
soaking up the warmth of his body next to me.  

     "I wish I could take you home with me," the young mother said,
getting up and hoisting her packages back into one arm and taking a
hold of the stroller with her free hand.  "He's never this good this long,"
she added, smiling.

     "Sorry, ma'am, but he's spoken for," I said, dropping the arm
from the back of the bench to Blair's shoulders.  I'd give all my earthly
possessions to have had a camera to capture Blair's expression.  The
woman just laughed, and moved on, but Blair was slack-jawed and
speechless.  "So, did you get anything good?"  I asked about the bag of
books, ignoring the fall out of my last remark.  

     "Uh...yeah...uh..."  Then he shifted away, putting the books
between us to show me what he found.  He was rattled, but he
recovered pretty well, babbling on a mile a minute about the goodies he
had in his bag.  He still had his glasses on, long hair all over the place
as he leaned forward to dig in the bag.  He smelled good, too.  I'd seen
the bottles of stuff in the bathroom.  It was some kind of "fresh
mountain something-or-other" nature scent.  It was light and clean and
a little woodsy, and I loved the scent of it coming off Blair's hair.

     "I didn't ask you if you had enough to get what you needed here
today," I said.  "You need anything else?"  I asked, after the book
reviews had finally been completed.  If nothing panned out at the PD,
there was always the New York Times Book Reviews.  Blair had them
beaten by a mile.  Of course, his reviews came with the gestures and
expressions and enthusiasm of someone who loved reading and
learning.  

     "No, I'm fine."

     "Yes, you are."  

     So I kissed him.  On the lips.  Right there on the bench in the
middle of the Cascade Mall.  I stuck my hand in his hair and let him
have it, complete with a little tongue action.  When I moved back, it
was all I could do not to jump him right there.  Those stunned big eyes
behind the glasses, the long hair I'd just had my hand buried in, and that
perfect mouth just a little moist and reddened from our kiss.

     "If I'd known 'The History of Native American Music' would
have that effect on you, I'd have bought the book four years ago," Blair
said, grinning and waving the final book he'd reviewed.

     "So you, uh, like the idea?"  I asked, silver-tongued as ever.  On
the romance scale, it was right up there with "Hey, baby, want a ride in
my truck?"

     "What's the idea, exactly?"  Blair looked down now, rearranging
the books in his bag.  "If you just wanna have a little fun on a boring
Sunday, I don't think I'm up for that."

     "What if I want to have a little fun on every boring Sunday for
the rest of our life?"  I asked, figuring I might as well go for broke.  I
mean, I'd already kissed the guy in the middle of a shopping center,
much to the amusement of a couple of girls folding jeans on a display
table in the front of the clothing store across from where we sat.  

     "I just happen to be free every Sunday for the rest of our life,"
Blair looked up, smiling again.  

     We walked out together, so close our shoulders were bumping--but then 
that was the normal procedure for us. I don't have a personal
space that doesn't include Blair, nor does he have one that excludes me. 
WE have OUR personal space, just like we have OUR home and OUR
life together.  

     When we made it to the truck, we kissed a little more, and I
held Blair close, and whispered "I love you" against his ear.  I guess it
was easier to get it out the first time by telling his ear I loved it rather
than Blair.  He squeezed me like a boa constrictor around a large
mammal, and for a moment, I waited for bones to crack.  

     "I love you too," he told my neck, where his face was buried.  

     At least his ear and my neck were on their way to a meaningful
relationship.  

     Finally, we parted, realizing we'd declared our love and spent
most of the afternoon making out either in the mall itself or in the
parking lot.  We did have a home, and it seemed that going there was a
good idea before we ended up getting arrested for lewd and lascivious
conduct.  

     We agreed on Chinese take-outs, and renting a movie.  Blair is
the lifemate of my dreams.  I declare my love to him, we make a
lifetime commitment in the mall, fool around a little in the truck and
then go home and eat egg rolls and make out on the couch to the strains
of action music from "Lethal Weapon 87" or whatever movie it was we
actually rented.  Play me the music that was on about a half hour into
it, and I could tell you what action was happening on the couch.  I'm
not sure I ever saw the screen, though.   

     When I fell asleep for the final time that night--the first time
was on the couch when we passed out from mutual exhaustion--I wasn't
in my bed anymore.  I was in our bed, in our home.  I was curled
around Blair, holding him close to me.  I had no idea what the future
was going to bring, but whatever it was, I knew we were going to enjoy
it because we were together.  Blair had a hard road ahead of him
professionally, but he was never going to make a life-altering career
decision alone again, and he was never going lie awake at night and
worry about things like bills and unemployment--well, not unless we
both did.   There were no easy answers to fix the war zone that passed
for his professional life at the moment, but I resolved right then that he
wasn't going to feel alone in the mess, however it got straightened out.

     Blair had said earlier that we probably didn't need the movie,
and he was was right.   All we needed was each other.  And you know
what?  That was all we ever really have needed.  


********
THE END