Work Text:
Lunch Date
by Rebel Melinda
Blair Sandburg followed the waitress to his table with more than a little apprehension. //`Why in the world would William Ellison want to have lunch with me? And tell me not to mention it to Jim?'// His apprehension didn't lessen when they reached the table and William Ellison looked up with a smile.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" the waitress asked as she slid a menu onto the table.
Blair sat down and placed his backpack under the table at his feet. Familiar with the restaurant's choices, he handed her the menu and smiled. "I'd like the Chef's Special Salad with extra croutons, ranch dressing on the side, and ice tea, please."
The waitress nodded and took the menu. She smiled at William. "Your order should be out shortly, sir." Then she walked away.
"Sorry I'm late," Blair apologized.
"No problem," William assured him. "It gave me time to look at the menu and decide what to have for lunch." Inwardly amused at Blair's nervousness, he leaned forward.
//`Oh, God! That's the same look Jim gets on his face when he starts to question a perp in the interrogation room!'//
"Blair, may I speak frankly?"
"Of course." Deliberately turning, he motioned for the waitress. "I'm sorry. Could I get a glass of water?"
"Right away, sir. I apologize for not bringing it sooner."
Blair smiled at the young woman. "That's no problem." Having gotten himself under control, he turned back to William only to see the amusement in the older man's blue eyes. "Sorry. What were you saying?"
"I was about to speak frankly."
"Uh...right. Go ahead." Blair reached for the glass of water as the waitress was about to put it on the table. Nodding in silent thanks, he took a deep drink.
William leaned forward. "How long have you been in love with my son?"
Blair spewed water across the table.
Jim Ellison followed the waitress to his table with more than a little apprehension. //`Why in the world would Naomi Sandburg want to have lunch with me? And tell me not to mention it to Blair?'// His apprehension didn't lessen when they reached the table and Naomi Sandburg looked up at him with a dazzling smile of welcome.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" the waitress asked as she slid a menu onto the table.
Jim sat down and quickly scanned the menu. Sighing to himself, he closed it and handed it to the waitress. "Garden salad and coffee, please. Do you have Thousand Island dressing? The regular stuff?" When the waitress nodded, he smiled. "Some of that on the side."
The waitress nodded and took the menu then smiled at Naomi. "Your order should be out shortly," Then she walked away.
"Sorry I'm late," Jim apologized. "Traffic was a bi...hassle."
Naomi's eyes twinkled. "Don't apologize. It gave me time to think."
//`Oh, God! That's the same look Sandburg gets on his face when he starts trying to convince me to do something I don't want to do!'//
"Jim, may I speak frankly?"
"Of course." Deliberately turning, he motioned for the waitress. "I'm sorry. Could I get a glass of water?"
"Right away, sir. I apologize for not bringing it sooner."
Jim smiled at the young woman. "That's no problem." He turned back to Naomi. "By the way, is there a reason you didn't want me to mention this to Blair? Or does he know that you're in town?"
"Yes and no."
Jim reached for the glass of water as the waitress was about to put it on the table. Nodding in silent thanks, he took a deep drink.
Naomi leaned forward. "How long have you been in love with my son?"
Jim spewed water across the table.
"Mr. Ellison, I am so sorry," Blair apologized for the third time. "I'll pay for the dry cleaning."
"That's not necessary, Blair. Really." William smiled at the waitress who was bringing their food.
The young woman hesitated, seeing the wet stain on William's white shirt and grey suit jacket. "Can I get you anything, sir?" she politely asked.
"We're fine," William assured her. "And the food looks excellent."
The waitress expertly placed a bowl of soup in front of William and the salad in front of Blair. "I'll be back shortly to check on you."
"Really, please, let me take care of the dry cleaning," Blair urged once the waitress had walked away.
"Blair, I have a stack of clothing to go to the dry cleaners," William assured him. "Adding a jacket and shirt is no problem." He dipped his spoon into the soup and then into his mouth. "This chicken and rice soup is delicious. Have you had this?"
"Uhhh..not the chicken and rice." Blair took a deep breath and began stabbing at his salad with his fork. He carefully lowered lettuce and carrots into the dressing then into his mouth.
"Blair? About Jim?"
Blair choked once then swallowed. He took several drinks of his ice tea then a deep breath. "Mr. Ellison, I don't know what..."
"Blair. Please answer the question," William firmly interrupted. "Are you in love with Jim?"
//`Oh, God! That's the `tell the truth or your dead' look that Jim gets on his face when I've screwed up!'//
"Yes," Blair whispered. "But...nothing...I mean..."
"You haven't told Jim?" William sipped his water.
"What? Of course not!"
William shrugged. "Why not? That would be the next logical step, wouldn't it?"
"Are you crazy!?" Startled by the loud tone of his voice, Blair hurriedly looked around then lowered his voice. "Are you crazy?" he repeated.
"Not that I'm aware of," William admitted. He focused on the half-empty soup bowl in front of him. "Do you think Jim would be upset?"
"What I think is that Jim is my best friend, and I don't want to do anything to damage that friendship," Blair firmly answered.
"God, Naomi, I'm sorry about that," Jim apologized as he used a napkin to wipe water from their table. "I'll pay for the dry cleaning."
Naomi blotted water from her blouse. "Oh, don't be silly, Jim. This goes into the wash with the other laundry. It's not a problem."
Jim sat back with a sigh. "I'm still very sorry."
"Apology accepted," Naomi smiled. She reached forward and patted his arm. "It's not important."
They sat in silence until the waitress served their food. Naomi began nibbling on a breadstick. "You love Blair."
Jim sighed again. "Naomi..."
"I think that's beautiful, Jim. Really. I'm in favor of it. Despite being a pig, you're a good man. And Blair deserves to be loved."
Jim stared at Naomi in surprise. "Okay, the pig reference aside, we're actually agreeing on something?"
Naomi leaned forward and impishly grinned. "Isn't that one of the signs of an impending apocalypse?"
"Blair, I can understand your point of view. And I applaud it," William nodded. "But let's look at this from a different angle." When Blair slowly nodded, he continued. "Now...out of all the women that Jim has dated since you've known him, has there been anyone that you would pick to be his wife?"
Frowning, Blair took several bites of his salad. "No," he finally answered. "But that doesn't mean anything. Jim most likely has a different set of criteria that I would. I mean, the person I might think is best for Jim might not be the person Jim thinks is best for him."
"But sometimes we don't know what's best for us," William pointed out.
Several more bites of salad disappeared from Blair's salad bowl. "So you think I should tell Jim?"
William instinctively realized that pushing Blair further would be counter-productive. He leaned back in his chair. "I'm simply saying that you should take a good long look at why you haven't told Jim and be sure that it's not your own fears that are dictating your actions." He shrugged. "And you might consider the ramifications that your decision could deny Jim the best love of his life." William suddenly smiled. "But if you do tell him and if Jim is of the same inclination, I would have no problem with it."
Blair spewed salad across the table.
"So, are you going to tell Blair?" Naomi asked as she finished her strawberry shortcake desert.
Jim idly played with his coffee cup. "Every time I think I should, I keep seeing that no-so-little black book of his."
Naomi chuckled. "How many of those numbers does he call on a regular basis?"
Jim shrugged.
"Maybe you should explain to Blair the difference between quality and quantity," Naomi suggested.
"Are you trying to give me pointers on how to romance your son?" Jim asked.
"Why? Do you need some?"
Jim signaled for the waitress. "If this is a sign of the impending apocalypse, then I think I need to go home and romance your son."
"Excellent! I'll pop back into town next week and see how you're doing," Naomi grinned.
"Are you sure you won't let me pay for the dry cleaning?" Blair anxiously eyed the ranch dressing stain on William's suit jacket.
"I'm sure," William gently smiled.
"Well...thank you for lunch." Blair hesitated, then continued. "I...uh...need to do some shopping. I think I'll try the romantic approach."
William solemnly nodded. "Think porterhouse steak."
"Thanks for the lunch invitation, Naomi," Jim smiled as they left the restaurant.
"Thank you for paying," Naomi laughed.
"My pleasure." Jim's blue eyes twinkled. "Can I give you a ride?"
"No, I have a car," Naomi assured him.
"Okay. Well, I need to get to back to work." Jim scratched his jaw. "I think I'll see if I can cut out early and do some shopping. A romantic dinner takes time to prepare."
"Think lobster," Naomi advised.
William reached into his pocket and pulled out his chirping cell phone. "Ellison."
"Mission completed."
William smiled. "Excellent, Naomi. I was also successful."
Naomi laughed. "Tell me, how did our otherwise intelligent children become so clueless?"
"Beats me," William happily shrugged. "Perhaps we should discuss it over lunch tomorrow."
Melinda Holley
July 2007