Eight weeks:
"I can't get my jeans fastened," Blair complained. He was lying across the bed, trying to suck in his stomach, but to no avail.
"You're not showing that much yet," Jim argued.
Blair just looked at him for a few seconds before replying. "These are my good jeans, Jim. They were always snug. Now, they don't fit at all."
"Wear something else."
"I don't have anything else! Everything's either dirty, too tight, or both. I need to breathe, Jim!"
"Try a pair of mine." Jim tossed him a clean pair of jeans.
"Yeah, right," Blair grumped, catching them before they could hit him in the face. "And roll up about six inches of the pant leg. No thanks."
"You've gotta wear something. I can't take you to the precinct for our wedding in your birthday suit."
"That would be interesting, wouldn't it?" The gleam that lit Blair's eyes worried Jim. His lover had a playful streak, and sometimes it was hard to tell when he was joking.
"You gotta take me shopping. I can't get married in these!" He struggled to peel off the too-tight denim.
"And what do you plan to wear to go shopping?" Jim, the ever-practical, pointed out.
Blair picked Jim's pants off the bed. "These, I guess. Doesn't much matter what I look like just to go shopping." He pulled on the jeans and rolled up the legs. "Let's move. The party won't wait all day."
~oO0Oo~
"They're baggy."
"You look fine, Chief."
"I couldn't find a pair that would fit around my waist without being baggy everywhere else."
"You're too hard on yourself. Nobody's going to notice. Besides, they simply don't make maternity clothes for men. You're going to have to get used to making do with what you can find."
They got off the elevator and walked over to the doors of Major Crime, arriving just before 4:30 in the afternoon. "You ready for this?"
"Go for it." Blair nudged his lover through the doors and into the bullpen, and was immediately mobbed by well-wishers.
"Welcome back, Blair!"
"How was Borneo?"
"Is it good to be home?"
"Are you tired from your flight?"
"Jim sure has been on edge while you were gone. Called in sick a lot."
The questions and comments continued like wildfire, while Blair tilted his head up with questioning eyes to his lover. Jim shrugged. "I had to tell them why you were gone so long. I told them you were on an expedition to Borneo."
"Thanks a lot," Blair sighed and went back to the welcome wagon, obfuscating his way out of the corner Jim had painted him into.
"Ellison! Sandburg!" Captain Banks bellowed from the doorway to his office. As the pair made their way through the crowd, Simon continued. "Didn't you have something you wanted to tell everyone? Some good news?"
The milling crowd quieted, and looked expectantly toward the three men standing in the office doorway.
"Go on, Jim," Blair encouraged. "It's your show."
"Why does it have to be mine?" he asked, sotto voce. "Why can't it be yours?" Blair poked him in the ribs with an elbow and scowled his patented Sandburg scowl. Jim capitulated. "Well," he began, facing his audience, "since Blair has, uh, been gone so long, well, you know the old saying, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' and, well, when Blair got back, he'd been gone so long, you know, that...."
Blair took pity on him. Jim was running out of breath, speaking in one long, disconnected sentence. "That he proposed, and I accepted," Blair finished.
You could have heard a pin drop in the crowded bullpen. Slowly, the voices began to return. A few of the hard-line cops turned away in disgust, mumbling something about fags in the PD. Most of their friends took a few minutes to come to terms with the idea.
One by one, they stepped up to offer congratulations and best wishes.
Joel Taggert, Rafe and Brown all looked shell-shocked. The news had come suddenly, and as an overwhelming revelation. It was taking some time for the information to be processed, but in the end, Jim and Blair were still the same people. Did this really change anything?
Joel finally stepped forward. "I'm happy for you guys, I really am," he commented, shaking their hands. "I wish you all the best."
"Thanks, Joel." Jim smiled warmly at the bomb squad captain.
Rafe and Brown also came forward to offer their congratulations, after the briefest of hesitations. Jim and Blair accepted all the best wishes from those of their colleagues who felt comfortable enough to approach them.
"Simon has agreed to let us use his office for our commitment ceremony," Blair announced to the room at large. "Afterwards, everyone's invited over to Bailey's Pub for the party." Sounds of approval echoed around the room as Simon ushered the couple into his office.
Joel Taggert stuck his head through the door. "Is this a private ceremony?" he asked, uncertain of his welcome.
"Come on in, Joel!" Blair waved his friend into the office. Behind him stood Brown and Rafe. "Don't just stand there," Blair motioned to them. "Come on in."
Once everyone was inside and comfortable, Simon turned to the couple. "Okay, so how do you want to do this?"
"Well, sir," Jim began, "we really didn't have anything prepared, no vows or anything like that. We've got rings to exchange...."
"Am I too late?" Megan Connor rushed to the office door, breathless from her dash from the break room.
"No, no ... come on in, Megan," Jim told her. "You're just in time, as a matter of fact."
As Megan settled herself with the other witnesses, Jim picked up Blair's left hand and slipped a plain gold band on the third finger. "I promised you forever, Blair. Guess this is it."
Blair pushed Jim's ring into place with a heartfelt, "Forever, man."
Time seemed frozen for several heartbeats as the couple spoke volumes to each other through their eyes. The spell was broken when Megan piped up. "Kiss him already, Jim!"
Needing no further urging, Jim pulled Blair against his chest and buried a hand in the mass of curls at the back of his head, angling in for a kiss that had everyone watching holding their collective breath.
When it was over, the couple turned to their assembled friends. "Bailey's, people! Meet you there!" Jim called over Blair's head. There was a mass exodus, leaving Jim and Blair in Simon's office with only the captain, Taggert, Brown, Rafe and Megan Connor.
"Congratulations, you two." Megan walked up to wrap both men in a group hug. "It's about time, you know. We all wondered what was taking you so long."
"It just takes some of us longer than others to find a ticket on the clue bus," Blair teased. "Let's go, okay? I could use a beer."
~oO0Oo~
"No beer, Chief," Jim admonished as they stepped up to the bar. "Ginger ale would be good."
"But, Jim, it's just one beer! To celebrate our wedding!" Blair groused.
"You're not supposed to drink any alcohol. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. Not good for Junior in there." He patted Blair's tummy.
"Ginger ale, on the rocks," Blair told the bartender. When the man passed him the drink, Blair picked it up and headed toward a table filled with their friends. Jim followed on his heels, wondering how he'd managed to get in the dog house at his own wedding reception.
Blair sipped cautiously at his drink. It had been a long day, and he found he tired more easily.
Jim watched him closely. He didn't like the pallor that was creeping into his lover's complexion.
"Um, will you all please excuse me a minute?" Pushing back his chair, Blair rose from the table, making his apologies, and headed for the men's room.
Jim decided to stay and put up a front, but he dialed up his hearing to keep track of his lover. The sounds of retching came clearly from the restroom, making him flinch in sympathy.
"What's the matter with Sandy?" Megan asked.
Pulling his attention away from the sounds of illness, Jim turned to the Aussie Inspector. "I think he brought a bug back with him from Borneo. Flu, maybe. He hasn't been feeling too well since he got home."
"Maybe you ought to go check on him," Taggert suggested.
Taking the opening, Jim excused himself and bolted for the men's room.
"Blair?" He looked around, his eyes finally landing on the stall where the young man was kneeling over the toilet bowl. "You okay?" He rubbed Blair's shoulders and stroked gentle circles on his back.
"Yeah, it's just the nausea. I'll be so freaking glad when this part is over with. It'd be really nice to be able to hold down a meal once in a while."
"What does Doc say?"
"I'm not gaining weight quite as fast as she'd like, but the baby's healthy."
"We're going to have to do something about that gaining weight thing."
"I'm okay, Jim. Really. The pregnancy, the hormone treatment; it's all playing havoc with my system. Everything'll even out pretty soon."
"You guys okay in here?" Rafe asked from the doorway of the lavatory.
"Yeah, everything's fine, Rafe," Jim answered. "I think I'd better get Blair home, though. He's still, uh, jet-lagged."
"I'll make your excuses for you. You just get him home and take care of him.... Get better soon, kid."
"Thanks, Rafe. I'll try." Blair chuckled as the door closed behind the junior detective. "In another seven months," he mumbled into Jim's shoulder as the older man lifted him to his feet.
"Let's go home."
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