Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Chapter Four

By

Cat

Copyright 2000 © Cat

This work is not to be reproduced in any way without the express written Permission of the author.

*****

Jim tossed his keys in the basket by the door as he headed into the kitchen with the bag of groceries he was carrying. He knew Blair wasn’t home and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. The Volvo hadn’t been in its parking space downstairs and he wondered where his partner had gone off to and when he was going to be back.

He unpacked the fresh vegetables he’d picked up for a salad, plus some extra tomatoes for the spaghetti sauce and laid them by the sink for rinsing. Next out of the bag was a jar of organic tomato sauce. Grabbing a pan from over the stove he set it on a back burner, turning it on medium low and poured the jar of tomato sauce into it to start cooking.

He pulled a second pan down and filled it with water, adding a small amount of olive oil and Italian spices and put it on to begin warming up. A loaf of French bread, a package of spaghetti noodles and a block of real Parmesan cheese were the last items out of the bag. Moving to the sink he set to work. He didn’t know how much time he had, but he wanted to try and be ready when Blair came home.

*****

An hour later Jim looked around and nodded everything was ready. The apartment was filled with the smell of tomatoes, garlic and oregano. The table was set and a bottle of wine was in the refrigerator chilling. But there was still no sign of Sandburg.

Jim wandered back to the table by the door and looked at the mail he’d dropped there along with his keys. He sighed when he found only one bill for himself and that the rest was junk mail. He dumped the junk mail in the garbage and put the bill back on the table. He was praying that no more came in for Blair. His partner was already buried and didn’t need anymore.

He hadn’t meant to pry into his Guide’s personal mail, but Blair had left it on the table one day and Jim had spotted it. Looking at the amounts on each of the loans being called in he’d been stunned to realize that the younger man was that deep in debt. But after looking at the tuition costs Blair was facing for each semester at the college, he had quickly realized that the meager grants, scholarships and work-study money that his friend had been receiving would barely have covered the tuition let alone books and living expenses.

The light on the answering machine finally caught his attention and he swore at himself for not noticing it earlier. But he had been too preoccupied with getting everything ready for when Blair came home to notice much of anything. Walking over he pressed the play button hoping there would be a message from Blair.

“Blair this is Sid Graham.” Jim seethed hearing the name and started to delete the message. “Don’t delete this until you hear me out….” Jim’s finger paused. He listened to the message, then replayed it again. He quickly jotted down the phone number but kept the message for Blair. If he knew his Guide, Blair would delete message after hearing it through, insulted by the man’s offer or because he wouldn’t want to open further, wounds that still hadn’t healed. But the offer was a good one and it would give his Guide an opening and Jim was bound and determined to at least make him think about it.

Finally his ears picked up the sound of the Volvo down in the parking lot. The car door slammed and he could hear Blair muttering to himself. Jim’s heart ached when he realized that his Guide was drunk. The younger man almost never got drunk, listening to him, Jim was surprised that he’d even made it home in one piece. Then he heard another voice talking to Blair, Peter. Jim sighed with relief.

He pulled the door open just as Peter was trying to insert Blair’s key in the lock while supporting the other man, who looked like a dead weight in his arms. Jim picked up Blair, who protested feebly and carried him into the living room to put him on the couch.

“Thanks Jim,” Pete sighed as followed Ellison into the apartment. He whistled softly as he looked at the table setting and got a good sniff of dinner. “Damn I guess this got all shot to hell.”

“Yeah,” Jim grumbled looking down at his partner passed out on the couch. Then his heart twisted, what right did he have to be angry. It wasn’t his life that lying in a shambles around his feet. “What happened?”

“He showed up at the salon like this just before closing time. I think it was false courage to get him through cutting his hair, but I refused,” Peter explained. “And there was no way I was going to let him drive himself home like this. Luckily his car was still in the parking lot of the bar down the street from the salon. I’m actually surprised he was able to walk.”

Jim reached down and smoothed the hair away from his Guide’s face with a gentle hand, his heart aching. He vowed that he would make up to the younger man for every bit of hurt that he was going through right now. One way or another he was going to try and make things right. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over his partner, then turned back to the other man.

“No since in letting good food go to waste,” Ellison said with a sigh looking at the Stylist. “You want to stay for dinner?”

Peter grinned slightly, “Damn Ellison, two dates in one day. You’re going to turn my head.”

“Can it Pete,” Jim groused taking a playful swing at the back of the other man’s head. “I wanted to talk to you about something. That damn Editor from Berkshire Publishing called Blair today. He’s got an offer for him, it sounds good to me, but I’m betting Blair won’t go for. You can help me figure out how to make him at least think about it.”

“Sure, I’ll help if I can,” Peter replied. “Anything I can do to help with dinner?”

“No, it’s all ready, I just need to dish it up,” Jim told him.

“Okay,” the blonde said walking with Jim to the kitchen area and leaning on the center island. “So tell me about this offer from the publisher.”

*****

Blair opened his eyes, slowly. His head was pounding and silently he swore to himself that he would never touch another drop of alcohol in his life if someone would just stop the rolling in his stomach. Then his heart caught as he heard the sound of voices laughing quietly. His stomach clinched as he recognized them as Jim and Peter. He struggled into a sitting position and looked over the back of the couch.

The sight that met his eyes hurt more than anything he’d ever felt in his life. His Sentinel and his best friend sitting at the dining table that had been set up for a romantic dinner for two. He felt the last little bits of his life crumbling from under his feet. Fighting the urge to be sick, or to rant and scream, he stood up slowly from the couch.

“Hey Chief.” Jim’s voice assaulted his sensitive ears. “How are you feeling buddy?”

“I’m fine, Jim,” he lied, pushing past the bigger man who’d stood and met him as he came close to the table.

“Blair —“

“I said I’m fine!” the Anthro student snarled. “Just leave it alone.” He fled to his room slamming the French door.

“Damn it. What did I do this time?” Jim swore violently.

“This,” Peter said waving a hand at the table with it’s lit candles and the empty plates and wineglasses.

Jim looked at the table and realized what his Guide was thinking. “Shit.”

End Chapter Four