Disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel 
and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely 
for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. 
No profit is being made from the posting of this story.

CHRISTMAS VALLEY

  by Natalie L
  nat1228@comcast.net

The steam venting from beneath the hood of Jim's classic Ford truck
did not bode well for the men as they drove through the snowy back
roads of central Oregon on their way back home to Cascade from a
police conference in Boise, Idaho. When the engine finally sputtered
and died, Jim steered the truck to the side of the road.

"Where the heck are we?" Blair wanted to know. "And what got into you,
anyway, taking the back roads instead of the highway?"

Jim squinted through the blowing snow at a sign about a half mile up
the road. "Sign says we're near a town called Christmas Valley. And
we're on this road because I thought it would be quicker. I thought
you wanted to be home by Christmas."

"Which is tomorrow," Blair grumbled. "Doesn't look too likely now."

Opening the pickup's door, Jim slipped out to stand on the road.
"You'd better come with me, Chief," he said. "Doesn't look like the
walk is too far. We'll find a mechanic and we'll be out of here."

"A mechanic on Christmas Eve? In Christmas Valley? I don't think so,
Jim," came the muttered reply as Blair climbed out of the truck,
pulling his coat more tightly around him. With his furry Fargo hat and
a wool scarf to help keep him warm, he began to follow his partner up
the road to the town.

True to Blair's gloomy forecast, the only gas station was closed tight
for the holiday. 

"So, now what?" Blair asked, teeth chattering as he fought to stay
warm.

Jim looked up and down the main street of the town, but couldn't spot
so much as a rustic motel. His eyes finally landed on a small wooden
structure. The tiny church was painted white, its steeple standing
tall against the leaden sky. Stained glass windows glowed softly from
the light within, and music drifted out to them on the wind. Next to
the church stood a tall blue spruce, branches heavy with snow, and
decked in colorful lights and ornaments--a living testimony to the
season.

Clapping his gloved hands together, and blowing into them to warm his
face, even Jim had to admit this appeared to be their only refuge. He
guided Blair up the street, and pushed him through the doors into the
small chapel.

The town was celebrating a Christmas Eve candlelight service. The
ushers handed Jim and Blair each a small candle, and they seated
themselves in the back pew.

When the service had finally ended, and the church had cleared out,
the two men continued to sit, unwilling to brave the cold again.

A soft voice greeted them from behind. "Welcome to Christmas Valley." 

They turned to see the church pastor standing near the door.

"Our truck broke down about a half mile east of town," Jim began to
explain. "We need to get a tow into town and find a mechanic."

"And something hot to eat, and a place to stay," Blair added.

"Well," the pastor said, "I can provide you with the latter, but the
former will have to wait until after Christmas. Please, come with me."

Jim and Blair rose to follow the minister to his cottage behind the
church. The home was warmed by a crackling fire, and the minister's
wife had hearty beef and vegetable soup prepared, along with
fresh-baked bread. After introductions all around, they settled in to
eat.

Warmed by the food and the fire, and lulled by the quiet graciousness
of their hosts, Blair found his eyelids drooping. He rested his head
on Jim's shoulder, snuggling down as he felt a strong arm wrap around
him.

Maggie, the preacher's wife, looked up from her Bible reading. "We
have a guest room, but there's only a single bed," she confessed. "I
could make up the couch, too, if you like."

"That won't be necessary," Jim answered. "We don't mind sharing. That
is," he amended, realizing with whom he was speaking, "if it doesn't
bother you."

The petite woman smiled, and rose to guide them to the room. "Not at
all," she answered, watching as Jim gathered his sleepy companion into
his arms, supporting him as they followed her. "Does that surprise
you?"

"Yeah, a little," Jim confessed, sitting Blair on the bed and
beginning to peel off the heavy layers of clothing.

"I don't believe it's my place to condemn," she explained. "We're all
God's children. So long as we love and are loved, so long as we live
our lives to the highest standard, I believe that God loves and
accepts us all. Good-night, gentlemen."

"Good-night," Jim called after her as she closed the door on her way
out. He finished tucking his partner into the bed, then stripped down
to his boxers and spooned up next to him. "Sorry I couldn't get you
home for Christmas," he said, showering kisses lightly over Blair's
neck and shoulder.

The younger man turned over in the crowded bed so that he could see
his lover's face, and smiled. "Home is wherever *you* are, Jim. Merry
Christmas." He leaned in to seal his sentiment with a kiss.

**May the blessings of the Christmas season find you wherever you may
be. Happy Holidays.**