Insert standard disclaimer here, not mine, no money made, yadda, yadda, yadda.
This story takes place very early in the relationship between Jim and Blair. Think first season people and PS -- I'm still living in my delusion that Jim and Blair were equal partners in the relationship, both having good and bad moments. If you don't like that idea, you may cease reading now. *g*
Thanks to the wonderful people who have beta'd this for me, including EagleEye, Shallan, TAE and Carole, any remaining errors are of my own invention. *g*
Trishbsc
December 21
Blair dropped his backpack on the floor as he turned to shut the door behind him. He was extremely thankful that today was finally over. He leaned back against the door and sighed deeply. As Martin Luther King had once proclaimed, he was 'Free at Last'. This morning, he had turned in his last paper and this afternoon he had given his last exam. Once he was done with grading the test papers, he was free until mid-January.
The past few weeks he had been running frantically from the University to the station trying to keep up with all his commitments. He was exhausted.
Jim quietly checked out his friend, still leaning against the door, from his position in the kitchen. He was worried about Blair. Not only was Sandburg burning the candle at both ends, but he was doing it with several candles at once.
The guys at the Bullpen thought Blair never ran out of energy, but Blair hadn't relaxed his guard around Jim's co-workers, yet. He still wasn't sure of his place at Major Crime. Only Jim got to see Blair without his mask in place, and that only occurred rarely. "Don't forget to wipe your feet, Chief. Dinner should be ready in thirty minutes," Jim called out.
Blair rolled his eyes, but complied with the request by taking off his wet, soggy shoes. Although it was December, it was raining outside. It appeared that his wish for a white Christmas was going to remain unfulfilled, along with most of his other wishes for the upcoming holiday season.
The tantalizing aroma of Jim's homemade spaghetti sauce wafted out of the kitchen. "Smells great, but I thought it was my turn to cook tonight," Blair said, after inhaling deeply.
"Well, I finally wrapped up the Fraumeier case, so I came home early. I figured you'd be tired, so I decided to cook dinner," Jim said as he stirred the sauce. He eyed his partner carefully, noting the water dripping down from the ponytail "You're soaking wet, Chief. Why don't you go take a hot shower?"
"I think I will," Blair agreed. "I can't believe it's raining out there. I'm so tired of the rain," he continued as he trudged across the living room heading for his room to grab a set of dry clothes. Jim furtively monitored his friend's progress.
Blair's head was down and his shoulders slumped. For the last few weeks, on the rare occasions they were together, Jim had noticed Blair's mood had steadily darkened. The closer Christmas got, the worse Blair's disposition became. Shaking his head at his friend's posture, Jim continued to prepare dinner.
Well, hopefully, what he had planned for them over the next few days would help. Jim had been plotting for weeks how to celebrate the holidays. For the first time in years, he was really looking forward to Christmas. He fully recognized the person responsible for his happy holiday mood was the person he shared his home with. Jim chuckled silently at the thought. It truly was a home now, not 'the loft', or 'his place'; 852 Prospect was now a home.
Jim's light mood was immediately dampened as Blair crossed the living room carrying a change of clothes, his shoulders still slumped in obvious defeat. Jim could only watch as Blair shut the bathroom door behind him. He wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't seen Blair this sad since the night Maya Carasco had shown up unexpectedly at the loft. She had broken Blair's heart that night and Jim hadn't known what to say to make him feel better. Offering noodles hadn't been the right move back then, but maybe a nice dinner with just the two of them would help now.
Just as he added the pasta to the boiling water, he heard the sound of running water. Jim hoped the hot shower would help Blair feel better.
Blair turned on the shower and climbed into the stall, hoping to warm up. He wished the hot water could thaw his icy insides as well as his frozen outside. Blair had been looking forward to this Christmas ever since moving into the loft a few months ago. But, things weren't going the way he had hoped.
He picked up the shampoo bottle and started to wash his hair. He allowed his thoughts to wander over those things that were getting him down. Processing his mother called it. Actually, his first problem was his mother. She had called at Thanksgiving to mention that she wouldn't be in town for Christmas after all. There was this wonderful retreat she wanted to attend, for women only. It just happened to run the entire month of December through New Year's. And she simply had to be there. After all, she 'could see Blair any time' were the exact words she left on the answering machine. She didn't even have the decency to speak to him directly. Blair could not remember the last time he had spent the holidays with his mother.
Then, he had overheard Simon talking to Joel a few days later about how thankful he was that Ellison always volunteered to work the holidays and he didn't have to worry about coverage. When his plans with his mother had fallen through, Blair had assumed since Jim had seniority in the department, he would not only have Christmas off, but they would spend it together. Jim had never said anything one way or another about his plans for Christmas. Blair realized all too late that he should have asked. Blair didn't want to bring up the issue with Jim. He still wasn't sure how hard he could push Jim on certain things. He had learned the hard way that his friend had unexpected 'hot buttons'.
He had been looking forward to an old fashioned Christmas. The kind he had dreamed about while he was growing up. The loft was perfect for it. They could have a large tree with a crackling fire in the fireplace. Some nice Christmas music playing on the stereo. Not to mention, a large dinner with all the trimmings. Now, it seemed he would be spending Christmas alone unless he wanted to go into the station with Jim.
He rinsed the soap out of his hair and stood under the hot spray for a moment, allowing the water to wash away some of the tension from his muscles. The loft didn't have a single holiday decoration yet. He wasn't even sure if Jim owned any. Not that Blair had much to offer in that department either. The fire at the warehouse had destroyed what few decorations he had possessed.
On the other hand, both he and Jim had been running in opposite directions the last few weeks, so maybe Jim hadn't had time to put anything up. The last few weeks had been hell for both of them. Blair recalled the term papers he had to grade, not to mention the two of his own he'd had to write. In addition, he had to write three different finals for his classes and study for two of his own. The University had laid down the law, and all TA's had to have their final grades turned in by December 22, no exceptions.
Jim had been assigned to work double shifts. By day, he was working his normal caseload, then at night he was assigned to the Century Shopping Mall on security detail. There had been a major crime wave, which had started right before Thanksgiving. A group of kids had organized into a well-oiled gang and were mugging store employees on their way to the bank. They had stolen almost one hundred thousand dollars before Jim had finally stopped them.
Now, it was over. After tomorrow, his responsibilities to the University were over and he would be available to work with Jim at the Station. Blair groaned at the thought of all of the incomplete paperwork that was awaiting him on Jim's desk.
"Sandburg! Are you almost done?"
Blair was startled by Jim's call. He realized he was starting to shiver. While he had been thinking, the hot water had run out.
"Coming, Jim!" He called back as he turned off the water and stepped out of the tub. Reaching for a towel, he quickly dried himself off. He hated the chill he felt when stepping out of the shower. He pulled on the sweats and towel dried his hair. He decided to ask Jim at dinner about putting some decorations around the loft. The worst Jim could say was no. Even if Jim didn't have any himself, Blair had a little spare cash. He could pick up some decorations at the mall after he turned in his final grades.
He dropped his dirty clothes and wet towels into the hamper. Opening the bathroom door, he could smell fresh bread toasting. His stomach rumbled loudly, food sounded like a good idea.
Blair was surprised to see that Jim had already set the table. That was usually his job. The spaghetti was already strained and in a serving bowl and Jim was pulling the bread out of the oven.
"Need any help, Jim?" Blair asked as he entered the kitchen.
"Nope, just have a seat, Chief. I've got it covered," Jim replied as he set a plate of spaghetti down in front of his friend and a breadbasket on the center of the table.
"Thanks, I'm starving and this smells great," Blair said as he picked up his fork.
Jim sat down and reached for the bread. "Neither of us has exactly been eating right lately. I was really tired of fast food."
"Whoa, I need to write this down. Jim Ellison just admitted he was tired of Wonderburger," Blair said facetiously.
"Watch it, Chief. I'm still bigger than you," Jim growled, but his pale blue eyes were twinkling. He was pleased to see Blair's mood lighten a little from when he had come home earlier.
Both men spent the next few minutes eating in silence, too hungry to bother with conversation. Only after Jim filled his plate for the second time, did they start talking.
"How's school going, Sandburg?"
Blair finished chewing his food before answering, "Fine. I just have one more set of finals to grade and I'm done until January."
"Think you can make it to the station tomorrow? I could really use your help wrapping up some of the paperwork on the Century Mall case?" Jim asked tentatively. He really was backed- up with paperwork from the last few weeks and could use the help. Simon had demanded that he have everything completed before going on vacation. The same vacation that he wanted to surprise Blair with on Christmas Eve.
Blair twirled his fork, winding the noodles around the tines. He answered hesitantly, "I don't think I'll make it tomorrow. Once I'm done with grading the finals, I still have to enter the grades into the computer system so I'll have to spend a couple hours at my office tomorrow afternoon."
Jim nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. "Don't worry about it. Do what you have to do at the University. I guess I can handle one more day of paperwork all by myself."
"Jim, I was wondering." Blair paused before quickly forcing out the rest of the question. "Would you mind if I decorated the loft for Christmas? Just a few things here and there; and tomorrow, I figured I could stop on my way back from Rainier and pick up a tree."
Jim didn't look up from his plate. His holiday surprise for Blair was floating on thin ice because of the request, but he didn't want to say no. There was something in Blair's voice that indicated this was very important to his friend. He answered, choosing his words carefully, "I don't mind if you want to put a few decorations up. There are a couple boxes of stuff down in storage that I've been meaning to bring up here. I just haven't had the time to do it lately, but I'd rather you don't get a tree tomorrow."
"Sure. I understand," Blair replied. Jim's answer was more positive than expected. Not all he had hoped for, but he hid his disappointment.
At least, he thought he had hidden his disappointment, but Jim saw it in Blair's eyes anyway. He almost changed his mind, but held back. Christmas Eve was only three days away. "I can bring those boxes up tonight if you want," Jim offered instead. "They are on the top shelves. No offense, but you might have a little trouble getting them down."
Blair forced out a chuckle. "I'll manage, buddy."
Jim nodded.
"Well, since you cooked, I'll clean up." Blair started to pick up the dishes from the table, but a gentle grasp on his forearm stopped the motion.
Jim shook his head firmly in disagreement. "That's okay, Chief. Get started grading those papers. That will give you more time to decorate tomorrow afternoon," Jim suggested. When Blair hesitated, Jim raised one eyebrow, challenging Blair to disagree.
"I'm not going to argue," Blair held up his hands in surrender as he stood up. "I'll be in my room if you need anything."
Again, Jim shook his head. "The light's bad in there, Chief. Give me five minutes and you can have the table," Jim replied as he gathered the dishes from the table. Blair isolating himself in his room wasn't acceptable. He didn't want to admit it to himself, much less to Blair, but he had missed Blair's presence the last few weeks.
"Thanks, Jim."
"Anytime, buddy. This is your home, too, just don't spread out across the loft."
"No problem. I won't."
December 22
Blair pressed the enter key and exited Rainier's records program. The last of the grades were in the system and he was free to go home. He sat back in his chair and sighed. It was only a little after one and he was done for the semester.
He was tempted to head to the station, but instead decided to go to the loft. He wanted to see what Jim had in the way of holiday decorations. He had noticed that Jim had stacked three medium size boxes by the couch sometime after he'd gone to bed. Blair hadn't had the chance to open them this morning, but was surprised at the amount of stuff Jim appeared to have. Anything Jim didn't have, Blair was willing to get. Blair was actually under his gift giving budget this year and his list had been longer than ever before. Jim was pretty high on his list even though their friendship was only a few months old.
Getting his friend a gift had been a lot easier than he had originally believed, since they hadn't known each other for very long. He had been amazed to discover Jim was a serious Jags fan. They had spent many an evening in front of the television rooting for the hometown team. Blair found 'Jim-watching' to be almost more exciting than the actual game. Jim, yelled, cheered and heckled the referees, loudly. So, he had gotten Jim a Jags cap and heavy fleece sweatshirt with their logo.
He grabbed his almost empty backpack from the floor before heading for his car. Progress was slow due to the sheets of ice that covered the sidewalk. Yesterday's rain had turned to ice overnight and, with most of the students already gone the maintenance department hadn't salted the campus grounds.
"This really sucks!" Blair muttered as he carefully shuffled down the sidewalk along side the parking lot. He didn't notice the car coming around the curve much too fast for the conditions. Not until it was too late and he knew he wasn't going to get out of its path.
It seemed that everything started to move in slow motion, just like in the movies. He saw the poor woman behind the wheel struggling to stop the car, or steer it around him. He saw the frustrated look on her face turn to horror as she realized what was going to happen.
It was then that the car actually struck. Blair tried to relax and roll, knowing that the damage would be lessened, but he was too stiff from the cold and couldn't get any traction on the ice. He felt pain in the back of his head as it smacked the windshield, cracking the glass in the shape of a spider's web.
He continued his roll, up over the roof of the car and down the trunk, before landing hard on his right leg. He wound up lying on his right side, sliding away on the same patch of ice which had caused the driver to lose control. He heard, rather than saw, the car crash into another vehicle parked in the lot.
Waves of pain rushed over him. He quickly recognized that his leg was actually hurting more than his head. He lay still on the pavement, afraid to try to move anything.
The sound of panicked voices reached his ears. Others had come to investigate the noise of the crash. A woman's voice was telling him not to move and that help was on the way. He was more than willing to obey the instruction. He fully recognized that moving would probably cause him a world of hurt.
He shivered from the cold of the ice beneath him seeping through his clothes. Soon, he felt someone covering him with a coat, actually several coats and felt a little warmer. He tried to focus on the sound of the sirens that were getting louder with each passing second.
The unknown woman's voice was quickly replaced by the voices of the two paramedics who had arrived on the scene. He knew he should answer their questions, but speaking was beyond his energy at the moment. He couldn't really see straight. Sometimes there were two paramedics, sometimes there were four. He knew he was fighting a losing battle to remain awake.
He heard one of the paramedics say the words 'compound fracture'. He was only dimly aware of the IV that was quickly put into his arm and the cervical collar being put into place. By the time the paramedics were transferring him to a backboard, he gave up the fight to stay awake. As he embraced the darkness, his last conscious thought was, 'Can this Christmas get any more depressing?'
Major Crime
"Ellison, you're with me."
Jim was startled by the sound of his Captain's voice at his side. He had been so engrossed in finalizing the Century Mall paperwork, he hadn't been paying any attention to what was going on around him. He noticed Simon was holding out his jacket.
"Where are we going? I thought I wasn't allowed to leave this desk until you had the final of this report," Jim asked as he stood up and started to put on his coat.
"I'll explain on the way," Simon said as he headed out of the bullpen without waiting for Jim.
Hurrying after his Captain, Jim quickly caught up as they waited for the elevator.
"Simon! What's happened?"
"There's been an accident at the University. A car hit someone in one of the parking lots over there. One of the officers on the scene recognized Sandburg as the victim." The arrival of the elevator was announced by a high-pitched ding. Jim was so distracted by the news, Simon had to pull him into the elevator.
"How bad?" Jim forced out.
"I don't know. He was semiconscious when they arrived, but he wasn't able to speak. The ambulance is already on its way to Cascade General. We'll meet them there." Simon pushed the button for the garage level.
Simon was thankful that he was the one driving, especially with Ellison's demands to go faster. Demands that quickly started sounding like pleas the longer it took them to get to the hospital. It was taking twice as long as it should to get there due to the heavy holiday traffic.
He wasn't surprised when Jim jumped from the car before he'd even come to a complete stop outside the emergency room. He knew he'd better find a parking place in a hurry before Jim got himself thrown out of the hospital.
Before Simon had managed to turn the engine off, Jim had already stormed into the Emergency waiting room and over to the nurse's station. "Where's Blair Sandburg?" he demanded to know.
"Hold on a moment, please." The nurse was quite accustomed to the abrupt, and occasionally downright rude, behavior of people who were seeking information about their loved ones. It was the reason she requested to be assigned to this station. "There's nothing in the computer about a Blair Sandburg. Are you sure you have the right hospital?"
"Yes, I do. He was involved in a traffic accident, at Rainier University. He was hit by a car in the parking lot over there," Jim continued.
"Oh yes, I remember, he didn't have any identification on him. He's registered as a John Doe right now. They had to call in a specialist from orthopedics to look at his leg. The doctor is examining him now. If you'll just have a seat..."
"I don't want to sit down. I want to see Sandburg. Now!" Jim yelled. He was losing his temper. He hated hospitals with a passion. They were even worse now that he had his heightened senses, all of the smells and the alarms.
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you go back there right now." The nurse was sympathetic to the distraught man standing before her, but the rules were the rules. "Are you family?"
"No, but I am listed as his emergency contact," Jim explained. After Blair's run-in with Lash, they had come to the conclusion that it would be best for both men to name each other as their medical contact. The doctor had refused to give Jim any information about Blair that night, because he wasn't 'family'.
As Jim was speaking, the nurse was bringing up Blair's medical history on the computer. "I'll let the doctor know that you're here. Please, have a seat. Mr...?"
"Ellison, Jim Ellison. Can you tell me anything? Anything at all about his condition," Jim implored. The officer on the scene hadn't reported in yet, so no information had been available through the station.
The nurse sadly shook her head. "I don't have any information yet. I'm sure someone will be out soon. It would be a help if you would complete this paperwork for me."
Jim stared at the clipboard she held out to him without making the slightest movement to take it. He was surprised when someone standing behind him took it from her hand. A deep voice calmly suggested, "Come on, Jim. Let's go sit down."
Simon firmly led his detective away from the reception desk. He had finally found a parking place and had arrived just in time to hear Jim's last statement about being Blair's emergency contact.
Jim quickly completed the paperwork and returned the clipboard to the nurse's station. Thirty minutes later, a doctor appeared in the waiting room. "Mr. Ellison?" he called, looking around the room.
Quickly climbing to his feet and moving over to where the doctor was standing, Jim answered. "I'm Jim Ellison. What's the story with Blair?"
"I'm Doctor Welles and I'm afraid your friend's condition is quite serious right now. We are taking him up to surgery immediately to repair the damage to his right leg. It will be risky because of the head injury, but he could lose his leg if we don't operate right now. I need you to sign this release form."
Jim signed his name before asking his next question. "Blair will be all right though, eventually? I mean, there wasn't any permanent damage?"
The doctor hesitated before answering. "The odds certainly are in his favor. He's young and healthy. I'll know more after the surgery. The waiting room for surgical patients is on the 5th floor. You can wait there."
Simon sat on the bench and watched in silence as Jim paced across the room. As Simon thought about it, he realized that paced wasn't the right word. He was prowling, like one of the large cats, protecting his territory. Blair Sandburg was definitely Jim Ellison's territory.
Thinking back over the last few months since the kid had shown up one day in his office with that lame thin blue line speech, Simon had to acknowledge just how much the kid had changed Ellison. Everyone had noticed that Jim Ellison was much easier to get along with these days, not easy mind you, just easier.
Everyone had also quickly learned if you wanted a glimpse of the old Ellison, all you had to do was come down on Sandburg. Several of the uniforms had learned this a few weeks after Blair started coming to the station with Ellison. They resented the kid who was apparently partnered with a detective from Major Crime. Those who worked in Major Crime were considered to some of the best in the department, and this longhaired kid had waltzed into the group without even being a cop. Several cops had made the mistake of physically hassling Blair about his presence in the department. Ellison had sent two of them to the hospital before the fight was over.
Simon watched as his detective made another circuit around the room, continuously staring at the door. "Ellison! Sit down. You are driving me crazy with all this pacing."
"Sorry, Simon," Jim said as he took the seat next to his Captain.
"He'll be all right, Jim. He's one tough kid."
"I know. I know. I just need to see him, sir."
"Why, Jim? How did this kid become such an important part of your life? You've been a lone wolf for as long as I've known you. Caroline wasn't this close to you and she was your wife. What is it about this kid?" Simon asked.
"I don't know if I can explain it to you," Jim chuckled softly. "I'm not sure I understand it myself."
"Is it because of these screwed-up senses of yours?"
"No, at least not now. I wanted him around at first because of my senses, but it's become more. He makes me look at things differently, Simon. He presents things from a different point of view, makes me think."
"A different point of view? Sometimes I think Sandburg's from a different planet," Simon said with a smirk.
"Not a different planet, he's just a lot less cynical then the rest of us. He still sees the good in people. It affects the way he relates to the rest of the world."
"How long do you think that will continue if he keeps working with us?" Simon asked, honest concern unmasked in his voice. In some ways, Blair reminded him a lot of his son, Daryl. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
Jim thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know. I guess that would be up to us, now wouldn't it?"
Simon nodded. He sat back and closed his eyes. He hated hospital waiting rooms. The chairs were uncomfortable and the coffee was abominable.
It was another hour before the doctor finished the surgery and came to talk to them. But, his news was well worth the wait.
"Mr. Sandburg came through the surgery very well. There should be no permanent damage. He should be out of recovery in about thirty minutes. You can see him after we move him to his room. I'll have the nurse come get you."
Jim nodded and leaned back in the seat, relieved beyond words that Blair was going to be all right. He knew he should answer the doctor, but he could think of anything appropriate to say.
"Thank you, Doctor Welles," Simon answered for the both of them, offering his hand to the doctor.
"My pleasure, gentlemen," Doctor Welles answered before leaving them alone.
Early Morning, December 23
Jim had spent the remainder of the evening sitting in the dark next to Blair's bed. He had come so close to losing his best friend, it was scary. He wasn't about to be sent away from his side now. The nurses, for the most part, had ignored him. He made sure to stay out of their way when they had to check their patient so they'd have no cause to throw him out.
However, the night nurse who was about to leave for the day was deeply concerned with Jim. He had already been with Blair when she'd come on duty and was now starting to look worse than her patient.
"He'll be fine, Detective. You should really go home and rest. You've been here all night," she said as she recorded Blair's vital signs on the chart.
Jim shook his head as he looked out the window. The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon. "Not until he's awake and knows he'll be okay."
"You won't do your friend any good if you collapse, yourself. You really need to get some rest."
"After Blair's awake," Jim replied firmly.
Blair was sure he was hearing voices in his bedroom. He was struggling to open his eyes when he realized that what he was lying on was too hard to be his bed. He managed to open his eyes long enough to see Jim arguing with a nurse. It appeared he was in Cascade General yet again.
"We have a competent staff here, sir. Your friend will be fine. The break in the femur was clean and it was only a mild concussion. As I told you, he was awake briefly and coherent in the recovery room after surgery," the nurse reminded Jim as she moved towards him.
"But the drugs were tapered down hours ago and he's still not... awake... Blair?" Jim's voice trailed off as he thought he saw his partner's eyes open for just a moment before closing. "Are you with us, Chief?"
"Jim?"
Blair's voice was raspy and weak, but Jim was happy his friend was awake.
"Yeah, Chief. You just take it easy. You're gonna be just fine."
The nurse left the room at the first sound of Blair's voice. Jim could hear her calling for the doctor.
"What happened?" Blair tried to remember, but everything was a blur. The last thing he could clearly recall was entering the last grade into the computer.
"You were hit by a car when the driver lost control on the ice."
"Oh. How bad?" Blair asked, the words were a bit slurred, but his voice was getting stronger with each spoken word.
The doctor had entered the room in time to hear the question. He gestured for Jim to answer. "Well, you have a broken leg and a mild concussion. You'll be okay, but the doctor wants to keep an eye on you for a while."
"Christmas in the hospital?" Blair moaned.
The doctor shook his head and mouthed the word 'tomorrow', but allowed Jim to answer aloud.
"Nah, Chief. Just until tomorrow. I can take you home for Christmas," Jim said as he patted Blair's arm. He waited for Blair's response, but no answer was forthcoming. In fact, it appeared that Blair was mumbling something and not paying any attention to what Jim was saying. Jim focused his hearing on the words coming from Blair's mouth and was appalled by what he heard.
"This sucks! Mom's not coming. Simon's happy Jim's working, but I'm not. I hate Christmas. I hate it. I wish I had slept through it."
Jim wasn't sure where Blair had gotten his information from, but he wasn't in any shape for an argument. "Blair, I'm not working this week and I know you don't hate Christmas. You don't mean that, buddy. You're just a little confused right now."
Blair didn't really hear the exact words Jim was saying, only the tone. Also, the pain was starting to get bad again. "Go home, Jim. Just leave me alone for a while. Please?" He didn't want to start crying and he knew that if Jim stayed and kept talking, he would.
The doctor stepped forward and made his presence known. "Nice to see you awake, Mr. Sandburg. Well, let's have a look at you," the doctor said cheerily as he pulled his penlight out of his pocket.
Blair moved his head away from the doctor to stare at Jim, "Go home, Jim. Get some sleep and come back tomorrow. I'm not going anywhere." He allowed the doctor to examine his eyes, hoping that Jim would get the message.
Biting his tongue, Jim nodded and left the room. It was obvious that he would have to move up the timetable on his surprise. He'd give Blair a little time to settle down once the doctor was done and then he'd come back.
Later that evening
Jim entered the hospital room carrying a brightly wrapped box. He hadn't intended to be gone this long. The bookstore had been very crowded and it had taken longer than he'd expected. Then, when he'd gotten home, he'd sat down on the bed. He'd meant to only rest his eyes for a moment, but he'd fallen asleep.
The nurse had let him know that Blair had slept most of the afternoon and was feeling much better. But, to his eyes, Blair looked miserable lying there in the hospital bed.
Closing the door behind him, he said brightly, "Hey, Chief. How are you feeling?"
Blair smiled back, but the smile never reached his eyes. The drugs were helping to dull the pain from the accident, but they didn't do anything for the pain brought about by being in the hospital two days before Christmas. "I thought I told you not to come back until tomorrow."
"I figured that was the concussion talking, Chief." Jim shuffled his feet looking down at the gift he had brought for Blair. "Besides, we have to talk, Blair."
"This doesn't sound good," Blair answered, but he reached for the controls to raise the bed. He wanted to sit up for this discussion.
"It's nothing bad. I want to talk about what you said this morning, about giving up on Christmas."
"Not fair, I wasn't exactly at my best you know. Can't we just chalk it up to the drugs and move on?" Blair played with the edge of the blanket on the bed, never looking at Jim as he answered. He hadn't realized he had been speaking aloud.
"Where did you get the idea that I was working this Christmas?" Jim asked.
"I overheard Simon talking to Joel. He said you always work the holiday," Blair explained, still unwilling to look Jim in the eye.
"Simon was right when he said I always worked the Christmas holidays, Chief, past tense. But, he was wrong about that this year. I made arrangements at Thanksgiving with Brown to cover Christmas."
"I don't understand. He said he couldn't remember the last time you didn't work Christmas." Blair said, starting to doubt what he remembered, not sure if it was because of the drugs or the concussion.
Jim made himself comfortable in the chair next to the bed as he explained. "I never really explained to him my reasons. When I was in the military, we always celebrated Christmas as a unit. When I was married, Carolyn didn't believe in Christmas and always volunteered to work. I did the same to please her."
"Oh man! How could she not believe in Christmas?" Blair exclaimed, forgetting that those were the very same sentiments he had expressed earlier in the day.
"Too many bad memories; her parents died very close to the holidays. They had been out Christmas shopping and had been killed when a drunk driver hit them head on. He had been at a Christmas party and shouldn't have been allowed behind the wheel."
"I guess I can understand that. But that doesn't explain why you haven't celebrated Christmas the last few years. You and Carolyn were divorced."
"Christmas is a time for celebrating with family. I haven't had anyone to celebrate with the last few years and most of the other guys did, so I volunteered to work," Jim explained.
"So what's different about this year?"
"You are," Jim answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Me?" Blair asked, shocked that Jim was speaking so freely. Normally, it was like pulling teeth to get the man to talk about himself, much less how he felt.
"Yes, you. I know we haven't known each other very long, but somehow you've become family to me. I wanted to share this holiday and my traditions with you."
"But... But... why haven't you said something, or done anything about the holiday? I mean the loft wasn't decorated at all and what traditions?" Blair's voice trailed off as he tried to figure out what Jim was talking about.
Jim saw the puzzlement in his eyes and refrained from laughing. "I'm sorry, Chief. I was so busy trying to surprise you, I didn't think how you would be reacting to the lack of anything obvious or about how you might have wanted to celebrate."
Blair sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. I guess my brains are still a little scrambled."
Jim smiled. "I guess I'll have to explain it to you then. My holiday traditions started when I was around seven years old. That year, my mom and dad got very involved in their society status. They spent that Christmas season going from party to party. They were more concerned about giving the proper gift then spending time at home. I remember being very angry with them. So, I decided that I wasn't going to celebrate Christmas ever again."
"Really?" Blair smiled at the image of a seven-year-old deciding not to celebrate Christmas. Of course, sometimes he doubted that Jim had ever had a normal childhood.
"Yeah, I remember Sally, she was our housekeeper, sitting me down and trying to explain about the true spirit of Christmas. I've never forgotten what she said or how she did it. I wanted to share her method with you, so here." Jim handed Blair a beautifully wrapped Christmas present.
Blair held his present in front of him and just stared at it.
"Open it, Chief. Before I explain any further, you have to open it."
Blair smiled and ripped the wrapping paper away from the gift. He was very surprised to see it was a copy of 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.' "Jim, I'm a little beyond reading Doctor Seuss you know."
"Doctor Seuss is ageless, Chief. Read aloud the section where I put the bookmark. Since you're so smart, it ought to be easy for you."
Blair opened the book to the section Jim had marked and began to read,
"He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
It came without ribbons? It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags!
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch though of something he hadn't before!
Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!"
Blair fell silent as the timeless lesson of Doctor Seuss echoed through his heart.
Jim saw the expression on his face and knew that Blair was starting to understand what was going on. "Sally explained that my parents had forgotten the true meaning of Christmas, but I didn't have to. We established our own traditions, some of the same ones I want to share with you, by the way. On Christmas Eve, we decorated the tree. When that was done, we made cookies and sang carols. At midnight, we would light the tree and then be allowed to open one gift. It was cliche and corny, but those Christmas Eve memories are some of the happiest memories I have."
"Watch it, Jim, or you'll ruin that tough guy reputation of yours," Blair said softly, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
"The last few years I've volunteered to work Christmas so those with families could spend time with them. I know how important that is. This year was supposed to be different. I had arranged to have the whole week off starting on Christmas Eve and going through New Year's to spend with you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I wanted to share with you those traditions."
"So that's why you didn't want me to get the tree yesterday."
"Yep, actually I've picked out a tree that is supposed to be delivered tomorrow afternoon. The tree is decorated on Christmas Eve, with hot chocolate and a crackling fire."
Blair stared at the white cast on his right leg, a cruel reminder of what was now not going to be possible. "I guess your plans are a little screwed up now. I'm not going to be much help decorating a tree on crutches."
"So, you'll lay on the couch, string popcorn and point out all the holes in my decorating job. The spirit is still there. Family spending Christmas together. Got it, Darwin?"
"Got it."
"Now, you sleep. The doctor said I could take you home tomorrow. So, while you are taking it easy here tonight, I'll start with the boxes I hauled up last night, then come get you in the morning."
Blair swallowed hard. He couldn't speak around the large lump in his throat, so he nodded.
"Good night, Jim," Blair whispered softly as he clutched the book tightly to his chest.
Jim stood up and headed for the door. "Rest well, Blair. We have a long day tomorrow."
As Jim headed for the elevator, he focused his hearing back on his friend. The sound of pages being turned greeted his ears, along with two little words.
"My family."
The end