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.

Acknowledgments: A big thank-you to my betas, who made this a better
story--Elaine, Kimberly and Mary. Also major thanks to Terri and
Vickie, who helped me hammer out the plot in the first place. And to
the gals on the Sentinel Betas list, who tried to pound this into
something reasonable, even if I didn't listen to all their
suggestions.

Summary: Jim and Blair plan a simple commitment ceremony, but nothing
is ever simple when Naomi Sandburg gets involved.


No Limits
by Natalie L

//There ain't no limit to the things you'd do
If you love somebody
The way that I do you.//
--Kevin Sharp

Jim rolled over, his arm reaching out to wrap around the bed's other
occupant, only to come up empty. He frowned with disappointment and
pushed up onto an elbow. Delicious scents wafted up from the kitchen
below. Twisting around, he looked past the railing and down to the
kitchen. Blair, wearing nothing but an old tank top and boxer shorts,
was busy stirring eggs in the frying pan, sipping on his morning
coffee. The sight brought a smile to Jim's lips. He climbed out of bed
and slipped into his robe as he padded barefoot down the stairs.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Blair greeted him.

Jim glided behind Blair and wrapped his arms around the slender waist,
burying his face in the fragrant curls fanned out across the young
man's back and shoulders. "Mmmmm," he mumbled, as he nibbled the
delicate curve of an ear. His lips moved lower to capture one of the
silver rings, tugging on it gently.

Blair reached up with his free hand, wrapping it around the Sentinel's
neck. He leaned in to the caresses, finally turning his head to accept
his morning kiss.

"What's gotten into you this morning?" Blair asked. "You're being
unusually affectionate." He tried to concentrate on not burning the
eggs, but the peppering of kisses and roaming hands were causing all
the blood to drain from his brain and pool in an organ farther south
on his anatomy.

"Just thinking," Jim replied, continuing to explore his partner's
body.

"Can we continue this conversation while we eat?" A neat dodge and
turn got Blair away from his mate and over to the table where he
shoveled the eggs onto two plates.

Jim followed with another plate full of buttered toast and a large mug
of coffee. He set the food on the table, then sat across from Blair.
Shoving aside a sheaf of papers bound in a plastic report folder, he
propped his chin on his hands. He stared at his roommate for a time,
until Blair began to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"What?" Blair finally asked, exasperated.

"Just thinking," Jim repeated, continuing to study the man across the
table. "You know," he commented, "we're married in just about every
way that the law allows."

It was Blair's turn to return the stare, a forkful of eggs poised near
his lips.

"We've had each other's durable power of attorney for years now. Since
we became life partners, we share our names on the bank accounts, the
title to the loft and the cars. We're each other's beneficiaries on
our life insurance policies. We've lived together for four years now.
We've slept together for nearly fifteen months." Jim paused once more,
gauging his partner's reactions to his words, and anticipating his
reaction to his next suggestion.

"I was thinking. . ." Jim paused again, the silence from across the
table making him reconsider his plans for just a moment. Then he
plowed on. "I was thinking it was time for us to tie the knot. You
know, get married for real."

Blair's eggs were rapidly cooling. His jaw worked, but nothing was
coming out of his mouth. Finally, he set the fork down, took a sip of
coffee, and tried again. "Why? And why now?"

"You don't want to." Jim looked down at his eggs, stirring them
absently with his fork.

"I didn't say that," Blair corrected. "I love you, Jim," he continued
softly, reaching across the table to take his partner's hand. "I want
to marry you. I've *wanted* to marry you ever since we became a
couple. But we've done all we legally can to bind ourselves together,
unless you plan on moving us to Hawaii."

"No, I wasn't thinking of that," Jim confessed. "But I do have some
connections. I know a judge who has performed a number of same-sex
marriages. I thought maybe we'd get Simon and Naomi, if you can track
her down, to be our witnesses. We'd go before the judge at the
courthouse, say some vows, exchange rings, get our piece of paper, and
be married."

"But why do we need a ceremony?" Blair persisted. "The state won't
recognize it as binding, and I already consider us married."

"Call me old-fashioned," Jim replied, "but I'd like a bit of public
acknowledgment of our bond, even if it's only the judge, Simon and
your mom." He reached into a pocket, and pulled out a small velvet
box. "I got these," he said, passing it across the table.

Blair glanced at the box, then up into Jim's expectant gaze. Focusing
on the box once more, he opened the lid. Inside, a pair of matching
gold bands glittered in the morning light. "Blair Sandburg, will you
marry me?" Jim's voice pierced the fog that had abruptly shrouded
Blair's higher thought processes.

"Yes," came the strangled reply after a moment's pause. Clearing his
throat and looking up at his mate, Blair responded with more
confidence. "Yes, I'll marry you." He tried unsuccessfully to restrain
his grin.

Jim smiled back. "Blair Ellison . . . sounds pretty good, don't you
think?"

"Heh, heh, heh . . . hold up there a minute, Partner." Blair held up
his hands, palms toward Jim in a "stop for a moment" gesture. "Who
said anything about *me* changing *my* name? Why can't you be Jim
Sandburg?"

"You've got to be kidding me, Chief," Jim chuckled in return. "All
right. All right," he said, after seeing the look of annoyance pass
across Blair's face. "We'll both just keep our own names. How's that?
Less stuff to change that way, too."

Blair nodded. "Our kids can be Sandburg-Ellisons," he said with a
grin.

"Who said anything about *kids*?" Jim asked in mock horror.

"We've got to have someone to carry on the family name," Blair
continued to tease.

"I'm not so sure the world is ready for a Sandburg-Ellison," Jim shot
back. "Maybe we should take after so many other professional couples,
and remain childless. The world would thank us." He glanced at the
manuscript he had shoved aside earlier and picked it up, only to have
it snatched away by his partner.

"What's the matter, Sandburg? Got something to hide?" Jim asked,
reaching for the paper. "Is that your dissertation? Am I going to get
to read it any time soon?"

"Well, um," Blair hedged, setting the manuscript down out of reach. "I
meant to talk to you about that." He pushed his plate of cold food
aside and sipped at his coffee. "I've already spoken to my committee
about changing the subject of my thesis."

"What?" Jim looked at Blair, startled. "You're not writing about
sentinels?"

Blair took a deep breath and confronted the sentinel he had studied
for nearly four years. "It came down to the fact that I knew I wasn't
going to be able conceal your identity well enough," he explained.
"That, and the fact that I've gotten a little too close to my subject
to remain impartial."

"Tell me you didn't tell them about *us*," Jim begged.

Blair grinned. "I thought you wanted to come out."

"Not to the whole world!"

"Don't worry, Jim." Blair patted the hand that had reached toward him.
"I simply explained that in riding along to observe you, we developed
a friendship that I felt got in the way of my objectivity. Plus, I
stressed the need to keep your identity a secret, and my inability to
do so without jeopardizing the validity of the data."

Jim sighed in relief. "So, what's your new subject?"

"What we've talked about before," Blair explained. "Closed societies;
especially as they relate large, urban police departments. The
committee gave me the okay to submit a draft of the new paper. I
should have it ready before the summer break. If they approve it, I
may be able to finalize it over the summer, and submit it this coming
fall."

A chuckle escaped Jim's throat. "My father always wanted me to grow up
to be a lawyer or a doctor. Little did he know I'd end up marrying
one!"


Later that same day:

Jim hung up his coat and headed for the kitchen to see what to fix for
dinner. He loved to cook, even though he'd never admit it to his
roommate. Sandburg's cooking was superb, but tended toward low-fat,
healthy items. Jim was in the mood for some serious artery-clogging
cholesterol tonight.

Simon had agreed to be his best man at the commitment ceremony, and
then had taken the time to seriously rag on Jim for taking up with
"the kid." Jim couldn't quite picture Blair as the unspoiled innocent
Simon tried to paint him. Quite the opposite, in fact. "Robbing the
cradle" was also a phrase that had come up repeatedly during his
tirade. So? What was an eleven-year difference in their ages? Blair
didn't seem to mind the idea of shacking up with an older man.

Jim pulled a couple cans of pinto beans off the shelf, then rooted
around in the back of the refrigerator for his private stash of lard.
Getting out a frying pan, he mashed the beans and added the fat for
frying. Locating tortillas and cheese, he set about making enchiladas,
adding strips of leftover chicken to the cheese filling. Lastly, in
deference to his mate's delicate sensibilities when it came to food,
he added a large tossed salad with plenty of sliced and diced
vegetables, and just a squeeze of lemon.

He was sliding the baking dish into the oven as the front door slammed
open and the object of his recent musings bounced in, dropping his
backpack under the coat hooks.

"Guess what, Jim?"

Yes, Jim thought. Blair was actually bouncing. The balls of his feet
were getting the workout of their lives as the young man tried,
unsuccessfully, to rein in his excitement. The sight made him smile.
Jim waited patiently, knowing his partner would be unable to hold in
the news for long.

"I got a hold of Naomi." Blair grinned an ear-to-ear smile as he
watched the reaction form on Jim's face. "She's in Colorado at some
retreat, but she'll be here the first of next week. She's really
excited. You know, it took her a while to come to terms with you being
a cop. She burned more sage in a week than she had the entire year,
but she got over it. She likes you, and she's thrilled her little boy
is finally getting married. Isn't that great?"

Jim smiled and nodded. "You did tell her it's just a simple ceremony
in front of a judge, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. She understands. You won't have to worry about Mom," Blair
assured his partner.


Sunday afternoon:

Naomi dropped her packages in the doorway and leaned over to kiss Jim
on the cheek. Then, with arms held wide, she advanced on her only son,
wrapping Blair in an enthusiastic hug and kissing him soundly. "I just
can't believe my little boy is getting married!" She ruffled his hair
as she turned a beaming smile on Jim. "This is so exciting!"

She gathered her bags, before either man could assist her, and bustled
toward the small room under the stairs. "I assume I'll be staying in
your old room," she chattered, "now that you're sleeping with Jim."
She deposited her meager luggage and swept back out into the room.
"There's just so much to do! When did you plan the ceremony?" Naomi
finally came up for breath, waiting for an answer.

"Mom," Blair began, walking over to her and laying calming hands on
her arms. "This is just a simple ceremony before a judge, remember? We
have an appointment for this Friday."

"An appointment? An *appointment* to get married?" Naomi looked
scandalized. "I only have one son, and if he's decided to get married,
we're going to do this right!"

"What do you mean by 'right'?" Blair asked suspiciously.

"Why, I mean with a rabbi, of course. Maybe an outdoor wedding under a
flowered bower. Do you boys have time to rent tuxes? I'll have to see
to announcements and invitations. Can you reschedule with this judge
of yours, Jim? I don't think Friday will give me enough time." Naomi
had found the phone book and was leafing through the yellow pages.

"I didn't think you'd sanction a big production marriage," Jim
commented. "Pretty establishment of you, isn't it?"

"Oh, I've got nothing against marriage and large weddings," Naomi
countered. "I just never found anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my
life with. That doesn't mean I don't want the very best for my baby."

"Mom," Blair dragged out the word with an exasperated cry.

"He doesn't like it when I call him my baby," Naomi chuckled, in a
quiet aside to Jim.

"Mom, why don't you just come sit down over here," Blair said, trying
to keep his voice reasonable. He took Naomi by the arm and led her
over to the couch. "Would you like some tea? I've got some new herbal
blends."

"Oh, we don't have time for that," Naomi replied, still looking
through the phone book she'd brought with her.

Blair settled next to her, gently pulling the book from her hands and
holding them cradled in his. "Mom, I love you, and I know you love me,
but Jim and I just want a quiet little ceremony. This is just for us.
It isn't anybody else's business."

Naomi visibly deflated. With her lips turned down in a soulful pout,
she looked her son directly in the eyes. "I just want this to be
something beautiful that you'll remember for the rest of your lives. I
wanted to do something special--my wedding gift to you."

"Your being here is gift enough," Blair told her in all sincerity. He
gathered her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "It's so good to see
you again. It's more than enough just to have you stand as witness to
our love. That you've accepted Jim is beyond my expectations."

"Jim is a good man," Naomi said. "Sure, it bothers me that he's a cop,
that he takes you into dangerous situations, but I've processed
through that. What matters is that my son is happy and in love." By
the time she had stopped speaking, Naomi had extricated herself from
her son's embrace and had captured his face between her hands. She
tilted his head up and planted a motherly kiss on his lips.

~oO0Oo~

"I thought you said I wasn't going to have to worry," Jim whispered
into Blair's ear that night once they had finally gotten to bed.

The younger man snuggled down into his favorite sleeping position,
with his face buried in the juncture of Jim's neck and shoulder. "You
don't have to worry." His muffled voice radiated confidence. "I can
keep Naomi under control."

"Famous last words," Jim sighed, wrapping his arms around Blair before
kissing him good-night.


Monday morning:

"Just make yourself at home," Blair told his mother as he prepared to
leave. "I've got some classes at the university that will take up most
of the day. You can call my office number if you need anything." He
handed her a business card and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "See you
this afternoon."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Honey," Naomi said with a smile, patting
her son's arm. "I've got plenty to keep myself busy."

"Now, Mom," Blair warned. "Remember what I told you--simple vows
before a judge down at the courthouse."

Naomi smiled and nodded. "I just need to make a few phone calls, is
all," she added.

"Okay. Just don't get into trouble, hear me?"

"I hear you, Dear."

"I've gotta run, Mom. See you later." Blair exited the apartment with
a final wave.

Naomi pulled a slip of paper from a pocket, and began dialing the
numbers written on it.


Later that afternoon:

Blair was bent over a pile of blue books, grading a difficult essay
assignment, when the phone rang.

//"Sandburg?"// Jim's voice rang across the phone line.

"What is it? What's happened?" Blair hadn't heard his partner use that
particular tone of voice for a very long time.

//"Simon got a fax."//

Blair sat up straight, immediately alert. "Is an escaped felon headed
for the loft?"

//"Worse,"// came the tight reply.

"Worse? What could be worse than some murdering madman descending on
our home?" Blair's heart was beating a rapid tattoo in his chest.

Jim's voice was strained. //"Naomi."//

"Mom?" Blair's breathing evened out a bit. "Mom sent Simon a fax?"

//"Not just any fax,"// Jim replied. //"It's a wedding announcement
and invitation to the entire department to attend the 'joyous union'
of her son and Detective Ellison at the Holden Park Arboretum at 1:00
p.m. Sunday afternoon."//

"Oh, God," Blair groaned. "Can't you just tell Simon to shred it?
Nobody else has to know, right?"

//"Too late."// Jim's voice was grave. //"Joel, Rafe and Brown were
there when it arrived. Any chance you could get some time off, and go
home to talk with her?"//

"On my way. Don't worry, Jim. I can get her under control." Blair
could hear the ringing of the phone line on Jim's end of the
connection.

//"Gotta go, Chief. I've got a call on another line."//

"Okay. See you later."

~oO0Oo~

"Ellison," Jim answered the second line.

//"Mr. Ellison? Samuel Marks here."//

"Oh, Judge Marks. What can I do for you?" Jim asked.

//"I just wanted to confirm the change of date and time for your
commitment ceremony,"// Judge Marks answered.

"Change? What change?"

//"Ms. Sandburg called and said there was a change in plans: one
o'clock this Sunday afternoon at the Holden Park Arboretum?"//

"Ms. Sandburg called? *MS.* Sandburg?" Jim was fuming. "There's no
change in plans," he added quickly. "Ms. Sandburg was in error."

//"Are you certain?"// the judge asked. //"She sounded quite
sincere."//

"Oh, I'm very certain. Please keep the appointment at ten o'clock
Friday morning," Jim insisted.

//"No problem,"// Judge Marks confirmed.

"And, please," Jim added, "don't call Ms. Sandburg to tell her of the
change. I'll take care of that."

//"Thank you very much, Mr. Ellison. I'm glad we got that cleared up.
Good-bye."//

//Me, too,// Jim mumbled to himself. "Good-bye, Judge Marks."

~oO0Oo~

Blair burst through the loft's front door, and headed directly over to
where his mother was seated at the dining table addressing a pile of
stuffed envelopes. "What do you think you're doing?"

Naomi looked up and smiled at her son. "Oh, Blair! How good to see
you. I wasn't expecting you home so soon."

"Obviously," Blair groaned, looking at the pile of mail.

"I'm just addressing invitations," Naomi answered her son's question.

"Well, you can just stop," Blair said, grabbing the pile from in front
of his mother. "You're not going to be mailing these."

"Why ever not? I've already mailed out over two dozen. This is the
second batch." She smiled beatifically up at her bewildered child.

"Mom, you didn't. Please say you didn't," Blair groaned.

"I made some phone calls, too," Naomi added. "Some of our friends and
relatives live too far away for the mail to reach them in time. I had
to call in order to make sure they could get their plane
reservations."

"No." Blair shook his head. "No-no-no-no-nooooo. . . ." He paused for
a breath, pulling up a chair to sit next to his mother. "You didn't
make any international calls, did you?"

"Only three," Naomi answered blithely.

Blair dropped his head into his hands. Finally, he found the strength
to look up. "You're going to have to call them all back," he said.
"Mom, I *told* you we're not having a big wedding!"

"But, Baby, you only get married once," Naomi insisted. "If you do it
right the first time, that is."

"Mom, you have to stop," Blair said with a sigh. "Just call them back
and cancel."

"Oh, I can't do that, Hon. Some of them already called back confirming
they'd be here."

Blair sat with his head hanging, slowly shaking it back and forth,
when the phone rang. He reached for the receiver, but Naomi beat him
to it.

"Hello? Oh, yes. He's right here. Just a moment." Naomi put her hand
over the mouthpiece and addressed her son. "Raspberry or vanilla
custard filling?"

"Huh?" Blair looked up, confused.

"Raspberry or vanilla custard filling in the cake? It's chocolate. I
like the idea of vanilla custard better, don't you? That goes nicely
with chocolate, and almost everybody likes it."

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Blair asked again.

"The wedding cake, silly," Naomi answered with a grin. "White cake is
just *so* overdone. I think chocolate will be much nicer." She
uncovered the mouthpiece. "We'll go with the custard filling, please."

"No! Mom. . . ." Blair grabbed at the receiver.

"What, Dear? You'd rather have raspberry?" Naomi looked doubtful.

"It's not that," Blair said, still trying to wrest the receiver out of
her hand. "We don't *need* a wedding cake. You've got to cancel the
order."

"Custard filling will be fine." Naomi said quickly, hanging up the
phone. She turned to Blair with a patient look. "I can't cancel now,"
she explained. "I've already put down a non-refundable deposit." She
took a good look at her son, who had visibly paled. "You don't look
like you're feeling very well, Sweetie. Why don't you go lie down?
I'll take care of things here."

"That's what I'm worried about," Blair moaned.

~oO0Oo~

When Jim finally walked through the loft door that evening, Blair
launched himself at his partner. "Jim, man, you've gotta help me!"

"What's Naomi done now?" the beleaguered sentinel asked.

"You name it! I'm just so *angry*. . . ." Blair ground out through
clenched teeth. "I'm letting this go. I'm letting this go," he
repeated quietly to himself.

"Want to talk about it?" Jim asked, pulling Blair into the
semi-privacy of Blair's old bedroom. "Or should I just do the deed and
hide the body?"

"I couldn't legally be made to testify against you, could I?" Blair
asked, with a gleam in his eye.

"That's true for married couples," Jim confirmed, "but I'm not sure it
holds for life partners."

"Better find another solution, then," Blair sighed.


Tuesday, mid-morning:

//"Good news, Chief,"// Jim announced. //"I was out on a case that
took me past the bakery, so I stopped and explained the situation with
the wedding cake."//

"You explained. . . ." Blair said, a cautious note in his voice.

//"Yeah, you know--I told them what was up with your mother, and they
were delighted to cancel the order and give her a refund."//

"Delighted?" Blair's voice held a note of disbelief. "Um, Jim, you
didn't use your particular brand of persuasion, did you?"

//"You mean threatening them with bodily harm or arrest if they didn't
comply? Slapping them with enough lawsuits to keep them in court until
the turn of the next century?"// Jim chuckled. //"Would I do something
like that?"//

Blair groaned. "I don't want to know. I really don't," he muttered.
Then, in a stronger voice, he added, "Thanks for taking care of that.
I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed, you know?"

//"I hear you,"// Jim chuckled. //"Hey, I gotta go now. See you this
evening."//

"Bye, Jim." Blair hung up the phone and looked around his small office
at the university. Maybe he should see if he could get Tim to take
over his afternoon class. It didn't seem wise to leave Naomi home
alone for very long. He picked up the phone, and punched in the
extension for Tim Warner's office. "Yeah, Tim," he began when his
fellow TA picked up the phone. "I've got a favor to ask. . . ."

~oO0Oo~

"Hey, Mom!" Blair greeted his mother with a cheery tone as he breezed
into the loft.

Naomi looked up from her position on the couch, the phone nestled next
to her on the cushion. "Hi, Sweetie! What are you doing home so
early?"

"Can't a guy just want to spend some time with his mom?" he asked.
"The weather is beautiful. I thought maybe we could take a stroll down
by the harbor. We could pick up some lunch at a vendor's and watch the
fishing boats."

"That sounds lovely, Dear." Naomi smiled at her son. "I'll just take a
minute to get ready." She got up and headed toward the bathroom to
freshen up. Stopping just outside the door, she turned. "You know, I
just got the strangest phone call from the bakery. They told me the
order had been canceled, and the charge on my credit card reversed."

"That's great news," Blair said, grinning. "I thought you couldn't get
a refund."

"Well, that's the really strange part," Naomi continued. "I didn't
cancel the order! So, of course, I had to explain the situation to
them. They were very nice. The cake will be delivered on time, Sunday,
as originally promised." She turned back to the bathroom, disappearing
inside.

Blair sank into the soft cushions of the couch and nursed the
beginnings of a headache.

~oO0Oo~

"This is *lovely*!" Naomi munched on her veggie pita as they sat on a
bench overlooking the bay. "I'm so glad you suggested a day out. It
was getting a little claustrophobic in that apartment. No offense,
Dear," she added quickly.

"No offense taken, Mom," Blair assured her. "It's just that you don't
get to Cascade very often anymore, and it seems a shame to stay inside
all the time, especially when the weather is cooperating."

"Oh, I agree entirely!" Naomi enthused. She placed her pita on the
wrapper between them, and took a sip of diet soda. "I had a most
interesting conversation today," she continued. "I had to make sure
that William Ellison was doing his part for the wedding."

"Mom, you *didn't*!" Blair groaned.

"The poor man didn't even know the two of you were a couple! Can you
imagine that?"

"Actually, I can, Naomi." Blair shifted uncomfortably. "Jim didn't
want his dad to find out about us."

"Why ever not?" Naomi asked, confused.

"Because his father is rather old-fashioned and strict. Jim didn't
tell him because he was convinced William would never approve of him
having a relationship with another man."

Naomi patted her son's knee. "But you're not just any man, Blair.
William has met you. He knows you work with his son."

"That doesn't matter," Blair explained. "He is really pressed when it
comes to liking me at all. Oh, sure, I played a part in his
reconciliation with Jim, but that doesn't make me any less the
longhaired hippie freak. Besides, I'm way too young."

"None of that should matter if you're in love," Naomi said, a dreamy
look in her eyes.

"It matters to William Ellison. . . ."


That evening:

There was a knock at the door. Jim, being the closest, got up to
answer. Standing in the hallway was a bemused William Ellison. "Are
you just going to stand there, or are you going to invite me in?"

Jim stood aside, allowing his father into the apartment. "What are you
doing here, Dad?" he asked, guiding him over to the second couch.

"I just wanted to hear it from you, Jimmy," he said. "You know, you
could have told me yourself. It's not like it's the first time I've
had to deal with you being different."

"I would have told you--eventually," Jim said, settling on the couch
beside his father. "It just never seemed to be the right time."

"Have you met my mother?" Blair interrupted, feeling the uneasiness in
his partner. "Naomi, this is Jim's father, William Ellison. Mr.
Ellison, my mother, Naomi."

"We spoke on the phone," William said, smiling politely.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you!" Naomi gushed. William stood,
clasping her hand in greeting. "Blair has told me so much about you,"
she continued. Both Jim and Blair paled at that comment. "I couldn't
believe that you were as much a stuffed shirt as these boys have made
you out to be. They do tend to embellish, you know. I think they were
trying to keep us apart. Can you imagine that?" She stopped talking
and smiled up at the elder Ellison, tugging on his hand until he sat
beside her.

"I was so excited when Blair called me with the news," Naomi began.
"It took me a while to accept Jim, too, so I can understand your
reluctance. I raised my son to be open and receptive to new
experiences. I never dreamed he'd fall in love with a pig--" she
paused, glancing up to measure William's reaction. "Please excuse me.
When Blair first told me about Jim, I nearly had a heart attack. Then
I met him, and found out that Jim was a very fine man. Despite the
fact that he takes my son into dangerous situations," she turned a
stern glance in Jim's direction, "I've found him to be strong and
reliable. And Blair loves him. That's good enough for me."

William eyed the effusive woman next to him with interest, although a
bit warily. Her shock of short red hair set off the hazel of her eyes.
The long, flowing chiffon gown she wore left little to the
imagination. She was actually quite a fine looking woman, he thought.
If only she'd shut up. Finally realizing that she *had* quieted, and
was waiting for him to comment, he cleared his throat. "Jim and
Steven's mother left when the boys were quite young. I had to raise
them alone."

"Isn't that a coincidence!" Naomi interrupted. "I raised Blair on my
own, too. I guess we really disprove the theory that single-parent
children are deprived." She sat back with a huge smile on her face. "I
mean, just look at how well they've turned out."

"I'm very proud of Jim," William admitted. "He overcame some pretty
tough obstacles and came out stronger for it. However," he added, "I
raised my boys to respect and admire women. I never suspected that
one, particularly *Jim*, would turn to another man to find
companionship."

"That's the thing about love," Naomi said with a sigh. "We don't
always get to choose the ones we fall in love with. Sometimes, you
just have to go with the flow."

"This is one time I wish Jim would choose to swim upstream," William
muttered.

"Dad." Jim turned a stern look on his father. "We're going through
with this ceremony, with or without you. Frankly, I would prefer your
blessing, or at least your acceptance." He stood up, gesturing toward
his father. "Could I possibly speak with you in private?"

William stood and followed his son into the small office/bedroom. He
closed the doors behind them and began softly. "Look, Dad. I love
Blair. I really love him. He completes me; fills up those empty places
inside. I'd like to think you'd at least accept him into our family
and make him feel welcome."

"It's not that I don't like Blair," William sputtered. "He's a fine
young man, for a . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Hippie?" Jim supplied. "You've got to work past that, Dad. Maybe you
don't approve of the long hair or the jewelry, but I see all that as
part and parcel of who Blair is. He's a very unique individual. He's
brilliant. He's funny. He kicks my butt when I need it. And most of
all, he's helped me with my senses. I'm not a freak, Dad. Blair has
shown me that what I have is a very special gift. He's made *me* feel
special because of it."

"I know, Son," William said, actually sounding contrite. "I'm sorry I
was so hard on you as a kid. I just wanted you to fit in."

"I have never really fit in," Jim informed him. "Blair is the first
one to not only accept me as I am, but actually revel in my
differences."

"What is it you want, exactly?" William asked.

Jim smiled, knowing that his father would now at least listen. "All we
want is a quiet ceremony in front of Judge Marks down at the
courthouse. A couple witnesses. No flowers, no music, no cake. We'll
slip off quietly for some time alone, and come back as though nothing
has changed. This is just for us, not the world."

"And Ms. Sandburg?"

"Naomi wants the works," Jim said with a sigh.

"Well," William mused. "If there's no talking you out of this crazy
idea. . . ."

"There's not, Dad. This is it. This is right."

"Then what can I do to help?" William turned on his son with a smile.

For the first time in more years than he could remember, Jim felt
support from his father. Maybe they could work something out, after
all. "Just try and keep her busy. She's kept *me* busy trying to undo
everything she's done. We need to stop her from doing more damage."

"What have you accomplished so far?"

"Well, I managed to straighten out the ceremony time with the judge.
Naomi had called him to switch to Sunday. I got it switched back to
Friday."

"That's a good start," William approved. "What else has she done?"

"Sent out invitations, made calls, ordered a cake," Jim listed. "I got
the cake order canceled."

"No, you didn't." Blair walked into the small room, joining the father
and son. "She got wind of you canceling the order and reinstated it."

"How did she find out?" Jim asked, amazed.

"The bakery called to inform her that her card had been credited for
the deposit amount."

Jim dropped his head into his hand and groaned. "Won't that woman ever
let up?"

"She will, if I have anything to say about it," Blair said. "She's not
an unreasonable woman, just an enthusiastic one. She thinks she's
doing us a favor. We have to convince her that she's not."

"I think you two boys have things you need to discuss," William said,
backing toward the door. "I'll go keep Naomi occupied while you argue
strategies." He slipped through the French doors, closing them with a
soft click.

Blair let go of the breath he'd been holding and shook his head. "I
never thought mom could stoop to these levels. Usually, she at least
*listens*.

"She's only trying to give us a memorable wedding," Jim reminded him.

"Oh, she's done *that* all right!"

Jim pulled Blair into a close embrace, rubbing the tension out of
knotted shoulder muscles with his hands. "It's all going to work out.
You'll see. You just need to relax."

Blair's arms wrapped around Jim's waist, and he sighed. "It's been so
long. . . ." He tipped his head up to look at Jim, and found piercing
eyes watching him. Hungry lips descended on his mouth, stealing his
breath. He felt himself being walked backward, until his knees
contacted the futon, and he fell onto the mattress with a soft
"whumpf."

Hands began to fumble at his belt and zipper, as Blair pushed back on
Jim's shoulders. "Jim! Hey, man, not *now*," he hissed. "Our folks are
out there!"

"William will keep Naomi busy. They won't miss us," Jim said, briefly
coming up for air. He dove back into the luscious lips, nibbling down
Blair's jaw to his neck.

"My Mom *sleeps* on this bed!" Blair protested weakly, as Jim finished
with the zipper and claimed his prize.

"We'll change the sheets. She'll never know," Jim reasoned, eliciting
a moan from his lover as he licked and teased his way down the full
cock.

~oO0Oo~

"May I help you?" William Ellison asked as he exited the small bedroom
and walked into the kitchen.

Naomi was busy boiling some pasta. She smiled as she looked up from
the kettle. "Oh, Bill. . . . May I call you Bill?" she asked. At
William's nod, she continued. "You could tear the lettuce for the
salad, then chop some of those vegetables."

William picked up a head of butter lettuce and began to pick and shred
the leaves with his fingers. "It's been a long time since I've been
allowed in a kitchen," he said with a grin. "I used to like cooking in
my younger days."

"I like a man who can handle himself in a kitchen," Naomi said, taking
the pasta to the sink to drain. "Could you stir the sauce for me,
please?"

William put the lettuce down and moved to the stove. "Smells
wonderful," he complimented, stirring the simmering sauce.

"It's an old Sandburg family recipe," Naomi told him, as she slid the
garlic bread in the oven to brown. She walked back over to the stove
and took the spoon from William, who went back to working on the
salad.

"Dinner's about ready," William commented. "Maybe I should go check on
the boys and let them know."

Naomi put a hand out, snagging William's sleeve. She smiled and shook
her head. "Blair was looking frustrated earlier," she explained. "You
know, having his mother around all the time. . . ." Her voice trailed
off, leaving a mischievous smile. On cue, a distinct moan of pleasure
could be heard issuing from the bedroom. "I think Jim is helping him
through it."

William turned back to the salad, wrinkling his nose. "I really don't
want to know, do I?"

"No, Dear." Naomi patted his hand, shaking her head in sympathy.


Wednesday morning:

"Where's Jim?" Naomi asked, coming out of the bedroom.

Blair was in the kitchen, mainlining coffee and trying to get some
breakfast together for his mother. "He had to leave early."

Naomi walked over and lifted the coffee mug from her son's resisting
hand. "You shouldn't be consuming so much caffeine, Dear. It isn't
good for you."

"That's okay, Mom," Blair said, rescuing his java. "I need it."

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Naomi studied her son for signs of
weariness, noting the stress wrinkles around his eyes. "You need to
relax," she decided. "Come on, we can meditate together." She took his
hand and attempted to pull him over to the couch.

"Can't now, Naomi." Blair refused to budge. "I really have to get to
Rainier. I've got an early class this morning."

"You'll do so much better if you take a little time out to get
yourself centered."

"Mom, I really have to go. Here, I fixed you some breakfast." He
pushed the buckwheat pancakes toward her. "There's orange juice in the
fridge." He kissed his mother on the cheek. "See you this afternoon."

"Blair, wait . . . Honey? There's something I have to discuss with
you." Before Naomi finished speaking, the door had closed behind her
departing son.

~oO0Oo~

Naomi was reaching for the phone to call Blair at the university, when
it rang. "Hello? Naomi Sandburg speaking."

//"Naomi?"// William Ellison's voice sounded from the other end of the
connection. //"I'm glad I caught you. I was just given tickets for
tonight's performance of 'Les Miserables' at the Cascade Centre for
the Performing Arts. I was hoping to convince you to join me for
dinner and the play. I figure the boys need a night alone to finalize
all their plans."//

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Bill! Les Miserables is a favorite of
mine!"

//"It's all set, then. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."//

"I'd love that," Naomi enthused. "See you this evening."


That evening:

"Dad! Come on in." Jim ushered his father into the apartment. "Naomi
is still getting ready. She should be out in a minute." Keeping his
voice low, he leaned toward William. "Thanks a lot for doing this. We
really appreciate you keeping her occupied. We needed some time to
ourselves to discuss the last-minute details."

"It's my pleasure, Jimmy," William said, smiling. "Naomi is like a
breath of fresh air to your stodgy old man. I don't think I could take
her for very long, though," he admitted.

Both men turned as Naomi swept into the room, followed by Blair. "You
look beautiful," William greeted her. He held out his arm, and Naomi
snaked hers around his elbow.

"Why, thank you, Bill." She turned to Jim and Blair. "You boys enjoy
your evening." She waved as William escorted her out into the hallway.

Once they were gone, Blair wandered into the kitchen. "What's for
dinner?"

"Leftovers okay?"

"Anything, man. I don't have much of an appetite," Blair admitted.

Jim grinned. "Pre-wedding jitters?"

"Like that would happen!" Blair scoffed. "You know, we need to work on
our vows."

"We'll discuss vows over dinner. I'm starving!" Jim turned to rummage
through the contents of the refrigerator for their meal.

~oO0Oo~

"I need to call Blair," Naomi stated as people began filing out of the
auditorium during the intermission. "I didn't get a chance to discuss
the flowers with him. I need to know what he'd like."

William put a restraining hand on her arm. "That can wait until
tomorrow," he soothed. "I'm sure the boys have their own plans for the
evening. We wouldn't want to interrupt."

Naomi blushed. "They haven't had much privacy since I've been there,"
she admitted. "All right. The flowers can wait until tomorrow." She
settled back into her seat.

William smiled and patted her hand.


Thursday morning:

"Oh, Bill. It was so nice of you to agree to meet me." Naomi smiled up
at William Ellison. "I couldn't get a hold of either Blair or Jim this
morning, and I really needed some assistance. Which do you like
better: orchids or lilies?"

"Lilies are for funerals," William grumbled.

"Then orchids it is," Naomi decided. "White ones." She turned toward
the clerk in the florist shop. "Have you got some of those lovely
tropical flowers? You know: the red, heart-shaped ones?"

The man turned to a refrigerated case behind him and brought out a
flower. "Do you mean Anthuriums?"

"That's the one! Isn't that just beautiful, Bill? Wouldn't it go
nicely with the orchids?" Naomi enthused.

William shook his head. "Tropicals would cost a fortune, as well as
being hard to get in large numbers on short notice. How about a
centerpiece of white roses, with a single Anthurium in the center, set
off by smaller bouquets of red roses and baby's breath on the tables?"

"That would be wonderful!"

William turned to the clerk. "We'll need the flowers Sunday morning."
The clerk blanched. William tossed his Platinum American Express card
onto the counter.

"Y - yes, sir. We'll have to do some special ordering, but the flowers
will be ready."

"Deliver them to the Holden Park Arboretum no later than ten in the
morning. We need time to get everything set before one o'clock."

As they were exiting the florist's shop, Naomi breathed a sigh of
relief.


Thursday evening:

They settled around the living room, after-dinner drinks in hand. Jim
and Blair sipped on bottles of beer, while William nursed a whiskey
and Naomi sat with a glass of white wine.

Naomi shifted a bit nervously, then set her glass on the coffee table.
"Well," she began. "The big day is just three days away. This is so
exciting!"

"No, Mom." Blair put his beer down and went to sit next to his mother.
"The big day is *tomorrow*. I appreciate all the time and expense
you've put in to giving us a perfect wedding, but we've already made
our plans."

"But can't you change them, Dear?" Naomi said, wrapping an arm around
her son's shoulder and smiling at him.

"Mom. . . ." Blair removed her arm from his shoulder and clasped both
her hands. "I know you mean well. I know you see this as a way of
reconnecting to me again after all these years. But, Naomi, you've
already missed so much. What makes you think doing this is going to
make up for everything else?"

"I've always been there when you needed me, Sweetie," Naomi crooned.

"Where were you the day I fell out of Mrs. Danbush's tree and broke my
arm? Where were you for my Bar Mitzvah? Or the day I got my Bachelor's
degree, or my Master's? Where were you when I almost died on an
overdose of Golden?" Naomi's brilliant smile faded as Blair enumerated
the many times she'd been absent when he had needed her. "Mom, I
understand. Really I do. But you have to understand that Jim and I are
adults. We make our own plans and our own decisions. We set up the
ceremony for Friday, and have plane tickets for a flight to Cancun
that leaves Sunday morning."

"Oh, Baby. . . ." Naomi was near tears.

"Don't cry, Mom." Blair reached out to wipe a tear that escaped her
control. "We want you to stand with us at the ceremony. Be there to
witness our love and commitment to each other."

"Yeah, sure, Chief," came Jim's acerbic response. "Just make sure that
it's *you* she has throwing the bouquet."

"Who said anything about a bouquet, man?"

William chuckled. "Well, Jimmy-boy, looks to me like you've met your
match. I never thought I'd say this, but I wish you luck. You're going
to need it." He slapped his thighs for emphasis, then stood. "It's
been a long evening, and I think the three of you have more you need
to discuss. No need to have an old fogy like me get in the way."

As he made his way toward the door, Blair darted up to intercept him.
"William?"

"Call me, Bill, Son. Or better yet, call me Dad," William said with a
grin.

Blair blushed slightly, then began again, a bit more hesitantly. "Dad
. . . um, we'd like for you to stand with us, too."

"Oh you would, would you?" William glanced over Blair's shoulder to
his son, who was still seated on the couch.

"Yeah, Dad. We would," Jim agreed. "I had asked Simon to stand with
me, because I didn't think you'd want to. I didn't expect you to
approve."

"We don't know each other very well, do we, Jimmy?" William said with
a grin. "I guess it may be time to mend fences and catch up on each
other's lives. This seems as good a place as any to start."

"Thanks, Dad." Jim got up to stand beside Blair. He reached out to
shake his father's hand, and found himself pulled into a tight
embrace.

"See you Friday, Son."

As William disappeared through the door, Naomi came to stand next to
the couple. "Well, I can see that my meddling is no longer needed."

"Don't say that, Naomi," Blair protested. "We know you meant well."

"What am I going to do about the cake? The food? The *guests*? Naomi
wondered. "Some of our relatives and friends are already on their way
out here."

Blair guided her back over to the couch and sat down beside her. Jim
settled next to Blair, an arm protectively wound around his shoulder.

"Have the party anyway." Two heads swiveled to stare at Jim. He
grinned at the shocked looks on their faces. "Well, the cake is
non-refundable, right?"

"You got it refunded once," Blair reminded him.

"Yeah, and you think they're going to fall for that again?" Jim
chuckled. "Anyway, with the people already coming, I figure why not
have the party? Make it a reception, with the guests of honor in
absentia, instead of a wedding."

"That's a wonderful idea!" Naomi enthused, her excitement returning
with the knowledge that her efforts were appreciated by her son and
his mate. "Now, about those invitations. . . .


Friday, 10 a.m. -- the County Courthouse, Room 214:

Naomi fussed with her son's tux, straightening the tie and pinning a
white rosebud to his lapel. "I just can't believe my little boy is
finally getting married!" She brushed at non-existent lint on his
shoulders. "You look so good, Sweetheart."

"Thanks, Mom." Blair leaned in to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.
"It means a lot to me that you could be here to witness this."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" She moved to stand at
Blair's left, while Jim took his position at his partner's right hand.
William stood as his son's best man, while Simon stood with Blair.

"Gentlemen, it's good to see you," Judge Marks began. "It has always
been my pleasure to be able to join a couple in marriage, especially
in cases such as yours, where the state won't legally sanction the
union.

"I understand that you have already done everything legally available
to you to bind yourselves together, so this ceremony is merely a
formality. Your love has already stood the test of time, and now you
stand together, ready to make a long-term commitment.

"Do you have rings to exchange?"

Simon pulled the matching gold bands from his pocket, and handed them
to the judge.

"Thank you." Judge Marks nodded toward Simon. "Now, you told me you've
written your own vows?"

"Yes, we have," Jim answered.

"Then, by all means, be my guest." Judge Marks smiled, nodding at Jim
to continue.

Jim turned to Blair and picked up both his hands, clasping them
lightly in his larger ones. "Since the day you walked into my life in
your torn jeans and electric blue vest, I knew there was something
special about you. You waltzed into my isolated life and made yourself
comfortable, despite everything I said or did to try and dissuade you.
As the months and years passed, I came to realize how indispensable
you are to me. I love you more than I love my own life. I pledge you
my life, my love, through all the trials and blessings our lives
together will bring, until death parts us." He took the plain gold
band from the judge's hand, and slipped it on the third finger of
Blair's left hand.

In turn, Blair took Jim's hands and looked up into pale blue eyes
filled with love. "From the day I met you, I knew that I loved you.
You came into my life like a catapult, throwing me into a world I
never imagined existed. I don't ever want off this roller coaster
ride. Through everything life has thrown us, you've been there to
catch me. I love you with all of my being, with the very essence of my
soul. I pledge you my life, my love, through all the trials and
blessings our lives together will bring, until death parts us and we
meet again on the other side." With trembling hands, he slipped the
matching gold band on Jim's finger.

Judge Marks smiled at the couple as they turned back to face him, hand
in hand. "Your vows bind you to each other more profoundly than any
law or piece of paper ever could. Remember them when times of trial
come between you, and threaten your union. You are committed to each
other through this lifetime and into the next.

"All that's left, gentlemen, is to seal your vows. . . ."

Jim took the hint and pulled Blair into a tight embrace, leaning down
to capture the mouth waiting for him in a passionate kiss. When they
finally broke apart, they found Judge Marks and their family staring
at them, smiling. A light blush colored their cheeks.

"With the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now
pronounce you wed in the eyes of God and these witnesses.
Congratulations." The judge shook the hands of everyone present.

"Thank you, Sam," Jim said as his turn came to shake hands with the
judge. "That was exactly what we'd hoped for."

"I was pleased you asked. I hope you and Blair will be very happy."

"There's no doubt about that," Jim answered, wrapping a possessive arm
around Blair.

Naomi's enthusiasm broke the new couple apart. "Welcome to our family,
Jim!" She flung her arms around her newest son, and kissed him warmly
on the cheek, then turned to Blair, hugging and kissing her baby. "I'm
so happy for you, Honey," she sniffled, wiping at the tears that
threatened to fall.

William had approached Blair, after shaking hands with his son, and
found himself pulled into an embrace. He didn't fight it, wrapping his
arms around the young man who loved his son so much. Jim grinned and
winked at Blair, knowing his father didn't stand a chance against the
combined charm of the two Sandburgs in the room.

"So, when is your flight to Cancun?" Simon asked, as the party made
its way out of the courthouse.

"We have to be at the airport by 9:00 a.m., Sunday," Blair answered.
"The plane leaves at 11:00. Are you going to be at the reception?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Simon answered with a chuckle.


Friday night:

Jim climbed into their bed and settled down next to his new husband.

Blair snuggled down beneath Jim's chin. "Mmmm . . . this is really
nice. The wedding was beautiful, don't you think?" he murmured into
the strong shoulder.

Jim stroked the silken strands of hair, letting his hand continue past
the freshly clipped ends to the smooth skin beneath. "Yeah. It was
really nice having our parents there. I still can't believe how well
Dad is taking all this."

Blair arched into the touch, sighing as the warm hand stilled over the
roundness of his right buttock. "He's a reasonable man," Blair said.
"He knows how to pick his battles--he wouldn't have gotten far as a
businessman if he didn't. This was one he knew he couldn't win." He
lifted his head to capture Jim's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"I love being married to you, Mr. Sandburg," Jim panted when the kiss
finally ended.

"I second that sentiment, Mr. Ellison." Blair rubbed his groin against
Jim's erection--his body echoing his words.  "Just remember to keep it
quiet. Mom's downstairs."

Jim flopped onto his back with a groan, his desire fading, along with
his erection. "Way to go, Chief. I'm gonna get you for that one."

Blair chuckled, and pulled the blankets across their bodies. "Sorry,
Jim. I didn't mean to spoil our wedding night, but I figured *someone*
should try to remember we have a guest sleeping right below us."

Jim sighed in reluctant agreement. "You'd better be prepared to be
fucked senseless once we get to Cancun," he warned, "because I'm
getting damned horny."

"We won't have to leave the room for the whole two weeks, if you don't
want to," Blair replied with a laugh. "I hear the hotel has excellent
room service."


Sunday, mid-morning:

Naomi flitted around the arboretum, making sure all the arrangements
were in place. The flowers had been delivered and placed on the
tables. Max Liebowitz, the deli owner and caterer to the event, was
preparing the cold cuts at the buffet. The guests were beginning to
arrive, and the gift table was filling up.

William Ellison walked over and wrapped an arm around Naomi's waist.
"Everything is just fine. Why don't you come over here and sit for a
minute?" He guided her over to one of the park benches scattered among
the flower beds.

"I wonder where the boys are now," Naomi sighed. "I miss them
already."

"They're probably fighting lines at the airport," William answered.
"They'll have a good time. Will you be staying in Cascade while
they're gone?

"Yes. I'm house-sitting until they get home. The apartment is going to
seem pretty empty without the boys there," Naomi answered.

"I'm sure you'll find things to occupy your time," William assured
her. "You can always call on me if you get too bored. We're family
now."

"That we are." Naomi smiled up at him.

William stood and offered her his arm. "Let's go greet our guests."

Naomi got up and squared her shoulders, hooking her arm through that
of her escort. "It's going to be quite a party," she said, grinning.


11:00 a.m. -- Cascade International Airport:

"Man, am I ever glad to finally board the plane," Blair exclaimed,
settling into the window seat of the Boeing 737's first class section.
"I hope Naomi isn't going crazy with the last minute details for our
reception."

"It wouldn't be a long trip," Jim joked, sitting in the seat next to
his partner.

Blair slapped Jim's shoulder at the audacity of the remark. "Is that
any way to talk about my mother?"

"We *are* discussing Naomi here, right?" Jim said with a grin.

Blair returned the smile, nodding.  "I am *so* looking forward to this
vacation after everything we've been through in the past week."

The captain came on over the intercom, as the first class cabin
attendant stood at the front of the aisle, holding a demonstration
seat belt. When the pre-flight instruction was finished, the attendant
strapped herself into her seat, and the plane began to taxi down the
runway.

Jim reached over to clasp Blair's hand, smiling.


1:00 p.m. Sunday afternoon:

The orchestral quartet played quietly in the background as the wedding
guests milled around, buzzing with gossip.

The gift table was overflowing. Megan was contemplating the pile,
wondering what two men in an established relationship could possibly
need. "Condoms and lubricant," Naomi whispered, as if reading her
mind.

Megan turned with a blush. "Oh, I --" she sputtered.

"Don't worry about it, Dear." Naomi chuckled. "It's a lovely party,
don't you think?"

"It's beautiful," Megan agreed. "Jim and Blair are going to be sorry
they missed it."

"I doubt that very much," Naomi replied with a wink.


Somewhere in the skies over the continental United States:

"//Umph.// Hey, watch the elbow," Blair grumbled, pulling up his
pants.

Jim jostled for position in the jetliner's cramped bathroom. "Sorry.
These things weren't made to accommodate one person, much less two."

"You're the one who wanted to join the 'Mile High Club'," Blair
pointed out.

"I didn't hear any complaints from you," Jim countered, buckling his
belt before pulling up his zipper.

"Oh, I'm not complaining, man," Blair said with a playful grin. "But I
do think we should wait until we get to Cancun before we have sex
again."

"But it's almost an eleven-hour flight," Jim pouted. "I'm not sure I
can wait that long."

"I'll make it worth your while," Blair promised. "Now, you leave
first. I'll follow in a few minutes."

"You'll make it worth my while, huh?" Jim's pout turned to an
anticipatory grin.

"I brought along flavored lube and massage oils--all sentinel-tested,"
Blair assured him. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

"I'll hold you to it," Jim said sternly, shaking a finger in Blair's
face. He opened the door and practically fell out into the aisle.
After recovering his balance, he headed back to his seat.

A few minutes later, Blair emerged, and went to sit next to his
partner who was blushing furiously. "What's the matter?"

Jim opened his fist to reveal two one-inch-square lapel pins. On the
front was a picture of a jet, and emblazoned over it were the words
"Member: Mile High Club."

Much to Jim's chagrin, Blair burst out laughing. "Busted!" he crowed,
winking at the laughing attendants.


The End