Title: Just Ducky

Author: Ami

Email: SciFiCatGirl18@aol.com

Rating: R

Pairings: J/B

Archive: Yes, to WWOMB, FHSA, SAFFL

Story Notes: This is sort of an answer to the 2002 Holiday Challenge on the FDAS (Feisty Danny Appreciation Society). It had to be less than 3,000 words, and include Hammond as either Rudolph/Father Christmas, snow, a rubber duck and vinyl. I changed it to a Sentinel story, with Simon instead of General Hammond, but I did manage to get everything in. :)

Summary: Simon in a Santa suit, a yellow rubber duck, and Jim and Blair kissing near the Christmas tree.


Just Ducky
By Ami

Jim hummed softly as he trimmed the large Spruce tree standing proudly in the living room. He grinned as he heard Blair in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the dinner preparations. His Guide was humming 'Silver Bells'.

He chuckled and reached up to hang some candy canes on the upper branches, sneaking one into his mouth -- he never could resist them. He looked through the balcony windows, contentment filling him at the sight of the Christmas card scene outside; deep, crisp, white snow lying in soft drifts on the streets, while more white flakes drifted slowly down from the -- for once -- blue sky. The sheer volume of white flakes was keeping almost everyone indoors, so the snowdrifts remained pristine.

"Mmmmmm... Hey, love," Blair purred, coming up behind Jim and putting his arms around him, resting his head on Jim's shoulder.

Jim turned toward his love, about to lean in for a kiss, when a familiar scent teased his nose. "Simon's here," he said, wrinkling his nose at the familiar mucky scent of cigars.

"Simon?" Blair looked at the door. "What would he be doing here? I thought we were all planning to get together at his house for Boxing Day."

Jim shrugged as he headed for the door, hearing Simon ascending the last flight of stairs. "Maybe he wants to ask us to bring something."

"He could have just called," Blair pointed out, heading back to the kitchen
to finish up a few last things.

Jim heard Simon come down the hall and opened the door as Simon came to a halt in front of #307.

The Sentinel's mouth dropped open at the vision in red and white velvet. "Sir?" Jim choked out, trying vainly to hold back his chuckles.

Simon chomped hard on his cigar, glaring at his laughing detective. "Not. One. Word," he ground out.

Blair came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. He'd been basting the turkey. "Hey, Simon, what's up...?" He caught sight of Simon and froze. His eyebrows went up. His mouth opened wide. Then he burst out laughing, his hilarity lasting so long he finally had to brace his hands on his knees.

Jim joined him in his laugh-fest, unable to hold back in the face of his Guide's amusement.

Simon just glared at the two men, waiting for their glee to subside. It took a few minutes, but finally they both gasped out a few last chuckles and wiped their eyes.

"Why are you here, Simon?" Jim asked, smiling, his mirth not completely gone. "And dressed like that?" The Captain of Major Crimes was in a very realistic Santa costume, complete with a dark gray beard, pom-pommed hat, boots, and a shiny gold belt buckle.

Simon sighed. "I'm playing Santa at the Cascade Youth Center's Christmas party. Most of the kids are inner city, so the directors thought it would be a good idea to have a minority Santa. I came over to borrow that large black laundry bag you have. The present sack the Youth Center supplied me with is a trash bag, and that just won't do. For one thing, the presents weigh too much to fit in there without the bottom falling out; the sharp angles of the boxes would tear holes in it, anyway. For another, it just doesn't look right for Santa to bring toys in a trash bag."

Blair nodded in agreement, a low titter escaping from between his lips. "Yeah, a trash bag would take away from the season. I think I saw the laundry bag folded at the bottom of the linen closet, next to the vinyl squares from when we redid the kitchen floor." He headed off down the hall, leaving Jim to talk to Simon.

"Oh, here..." Simon reached into one of the pockets of his getup and pulled something out. "This is for you." He placed the item into Jim's hand.

Jim curled his palm up to keep from dropping the -- whatever it was -- and heard a squeak. "Sir?" His eyebrows tried to climb off his forehead -- there was a yellow plastic rubber duck in his palm. "What the..."

"Hell is that?" Blair finished, coming up behind the two cops with the laundry bag in his hands. He handed the requested item to the captain, and asked, "What's with the rubber duckie?" He chuckled.

Simon chomped harder on his -- thankfully unlit -- cigar and grumbled, "It was supposed to be one of the presents for the kids down at the Center. Daryl's school had a toy drive, asking everyone to bring in unwrapped toys. Daryl was on the committee in charge and when he put away the bins the school had set out, he found this little guy," he gestured to the duck, "at the bottom of one of the barrels. He gave it to me to slip in with the other toys, but I don't think it would be a very good gift."

Blair nodded sorrowfully. "Yeah, most of the kids at the Center are shelter kids -- homeless shelters, the Battered Women's shelter, or they live in the Cascade City Orphanage. If the places even have a bathtub, there's always a time limit on how long you can stay in it. They'd never even get to enjoy bath toys. It's too bad, I loved my duck when I was a kid."

"You still are a kid," Simon griped.

"Yeah, yeah..." Blair smirked. "You're just pissed because now that we've seen you in your Santa suit, we have great blackmail material." He grinned evilly.

"You wouldn't dare... Not if you know what's good for you." Simon glared at the observer. He clutched the laundry bag tightly and stalked out of the loft, slamming the door behind him.

Jim looked at his Guide and chuckled. "I wonder if he knows Henri volunteered to be the Youth Center's Elf?" He smiled evilly.

Blair laughed. "Oh, man, I hope H. gets pictures!"

***

"Hey, Chief?" Jim called from behind the bathroom door. "Could you come in here for a minute?"

"Sure, Big Guy, whatcha need?" Blair stuck his head around the door and chuckled. "Uh, Jim, is that a rubber duckie or are you happy to see me?" Jim was holding said duck in his lap, which was almost the only part of him that could be seen above the bubbles. They'd gotten each other a joint present for Christmas -- a larger water heater and a new tub, one big enough for three people -- or two people and a rubber duck.

Jim grinned as he sat up and placed the yellow duck on the side of the tub. "I thought you might like to join us for our bath." There was a gleam of lust in the Sentinel's eyes that belied his innocent words.

Blair laughed softly. "Us?" he questioned as he closed the door behind him and started stripping his clothes off.

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, me and Burton here." Jim gestured to the forever-smiling plastic toy.

"Oh, God, Jim, you *named* it?"

"Well, sure, why not?"

Blair shook his head as he toed off his shoes. "Whatever, man." He shucked his jeans and boxers and carefully lowered himself into the tub opposite Jim. He settled back against the cold porcelain of the tub, enjoying the sensations of the warm water and bubbles against his skin. "Mmm, this is nice. Though I haven't had a bath with a rubber duckie since I was five," he chuckled.

Jim smiled evilly. "Well, I thought it would be fun to relive our childhoods." Grabbing Blair's foot, he massaged the instep. He then started nibbling on Blair's toes.

"Hey, Jim, stop! That tickles." Blair tried to wrest his foot from Jim's grip, giggling all the while.

But Jim would not release his prize, holding ever-tighter to the wiggling foot. He continued his toe-torment, only stopping when Blair's breathing was labored.

"Had enough, Guppy?" A mock-innocent smile graced the Sentinel's face as he caressed Blair's foot. The smile told Blair that Jim was only giving him a short reprieve.

With sudden inspiration, Blair reached out and grabbed the yellow duck as it floated by. Quickly squeezing it under the water to capture some of the soapy liquid, he aimed the duck at his lover and fired -- right at his face.

"Wha- Sandburg!"

"Ha-ha! Gotcha, Big Guy."

Jim growled as he mopped his face with a washcloth. "Not funny, Chief." He wasn't really mad; he'd seen it coming and managed to close his eyes and mouth before any of the bathwater hit him.

"I'm sorry, but my foot couldn't take much more." Blair wiggled the abused appendage, now on his side of the tub. "Truce?" He smiled and held out the hand with the duck in it.

Shaking his head and chuckling, Jim captured Blair's hand -- and the duck -- and pulled his lover into his arms, releasing the duck into the wild. Some of the water splashed over the edge of the tub, but neither of them cared.

"Truce," Jim whispered as he claimed Blair's lips.

"Mmm," Blair purred as Jim kissed his way down his throat. "Much better than a rubber duck," he mumbled.

Jim's chuckles reverberated down Blair's chest. "You said it, Chief."



END