When the last of the guests had finally left, and the kitchen cleanup was completed, the leftovers stuffed in the refrigerator or sent home with willing hands, Jim wrapped an arm around his love and led him to the stairs. "What a day, huh, Chief?" The tired anthropologist just nodded.
When they reached the bed, Blair dropped unceremoniously onto it. Jim nestled Laurene in a cushion of pillows and proceeded to undress his exhausted partner. Once Blair was down to his boxers and a tee, Jim took off his own clothes and climbed in beside him, snuggling close. "At least we get to sleep in again tomorrow," he reminded Blair.
His only reply was a soft snore.
Chanukah:
This time of year, the holidays always seemed to run together. Jim came home from work one evening to find a menorah sitting on a table near the patio doors, and Blair in the kitchen, cooking.
"What smells so good?" he asked, dropping his keys in the basket and hanging his coat on a hook.
Blair looked up from the frying pan he was tending. "Potato latkes. They're traditional Chanukah fare."
"Since when did you go all traditional on me?" Jim noted that his unconventional lover was also wearing the traditional skull cap of Jewish men, a yarmulke.
"Having a kid makes you rethink some of your values, you know?" Blair shoveled a couple more of the pancakes onto a platter already piled high. "Makes you want to go back and rediscover your roots."
"Roots? I didn't know you had roots," Jim commented.
"Very funny, man." Blair carried the platter of latkes to the dining room table, which also contained some of the Thanksgiving leftovers from the freezer, all reheated to perfection. "I've got a little something for you," he said, handing Jim a small box.
Jim lifted the lid and stared dumbly at the contents. Inside was a beautiful red brocade yarmulke. He looked up to find Blair smiling at him.
"It was my great uncle's," the young man explained. "He was a rabbi at the local synagogue. When he passed away, my grandmother gave that to me. She knew that Naomi wouldn't raise me in the faith, and she wanted to give me a little something to remind me of my heritage."
"I can't accept this, Blair," Jim said, handing the box back.
Blair pushed it back into Jim's hands. "Of course you can. I can't think of anyone I'd rather see wear it."
"I'm not Jewish," Jim reminded his lover.
"Doesn't matter. When we light the menorah and say the prayers, you can wear it. Now, sit down before the food gets cold."
Jim dug into the food with delight. "This is good."
"Glad you like it. I figured it'd be right up your alley. Most traditional Chanukah foods are of the heart attack on a plate variety." He smiled at the Sentinel, who had a taste for fried foods.
When they finished the meal and had cleaned up the kitchen, Blair helped Jim fasten the yarmulke in place and led him into the living room. Jim gathered Laurene into his arms and joined Blair over by the menorah. The younger man lifted the center candle, the shamash, and lit it. He bowed his head and began the Chanukah prayers. "Baruch ata Hashem, Elokenu melech ha'olam, asher kidshanu b'mitzvotav v'tizivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah. Baruch ata Hashem, Elokenu melech ha'olam, she'asah nisim la'avotenu, bayamim hahem bazeman hazeh." When he finished, he lit the first candle.
"Now what?" Jim asked, watching the flicker of the small candle.
"Well, traditionally we'd play games, sing songs and eat some more." Blair grinned up at him. "But I'm not that traditional. Besides, it's been a long day and I'm beat. Isn't there a Jags game on tonight?"
"As a matter of fact," Jim said, settling on the couch and patting the cushion next to him, "there is." He picked up the remote as Blair settled next to him. "Happy Chanukah, Blair." He wrapped an arm around the younger man and pulled him close.
"Thanks, Jim. Shalom." Blair settled into the embrace, tucking his head under Jim's chin. The crackling fire and the steady rhythm of Jim's heartbeat beneath his ear worked their magic on the tired anthropologist, and he drifted off to sleep.
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