Author/pseudonym:
alyjude
Pairing:
J/B
Rating: NC17 (do you know how weird it is writing NC17 with Jake present?)
Series/sequel: Yes, this is a story in the Everything's Jake Universe
Email:
alyjude@webtv.net
Disclaimer:
I did *not* put the firecracker under Blair and Jim's bed. I swear it. But I
definitely saw Jim light a firecracker under Blair. And you all know who they
belong to... ME!!! ::aly, ducking the men in white coats with nets::
Note:
I now have an official *team* of betas and we all know I desperately NEED them.
:)) Thank you to MELVIN (the heart of the Jake series), GREENWOMAN and new to
the force, LISA! Pity them folks and send them flowers.
Warning:
Nope, none. Really. Zero. Zilch.
Summary:
Wherein we countdown to Jake's first July 4th, we join him for his
first swimming lesson, Simon says something stupid and everyone eats way too
much!
NOTE,
the Sequel:
While
this story stands alone in the Jake Universe, you should know a few things:
Jake's first Thanksgiving/Christmas/Chanuka will appear in a zine novel from
Angel Wings Presses (aly waving madly at Bast) eventually.
Also,
Bunny Trails, Jake's first Easter/Passover, is coming very soon to an sxf near
you, but this one kinda pushed it over. Also, later in the summer, Jake, Jim and
Blair take their first vacation. So how does that relate to this story? Well,
this *does* stand alone, but a few things have been left unresolved for now and
are part of a Jake arc that will be concluded in September when Jake goes to
kindergarden. Also - Jim and Blair both have new vehicles purchased in the
Thanksgiving story and Naomi now occupies the loft.
Also,
a new OC in the form of Corky, appears here, but he was first
"twizzlers.
no, twisters. wait, spark-leees."
"Sparklers."
"spark-lers.
must have sparklers. lots of sparklers. *tons* of sparklers."
Jake
tapped a finger on his chin as he looked up at the blue sky over Cascade,
squinting in thought, then shook his wild curls and said, "no, must have
*everything*!"
"Oh-ho,
now it's *everything*? What constitutes *everything*?" Blair asked, a wide
smile on his face as he gazed down at his son.
"um...
don't know - what *is* everything?"
"Well,
in about two minutes, Jim will be here and seven minutes after that, we'll be
standing in front of the Cascade Police Department-sponsored fireworks stand and
you'll find out."
Jake
slipped a small hand into Blair's larger one and peeked around him to look with
longing down the street. "he's not heeeeere yet, daddy." "Be
patient, Grasshopper. Jim is *never* late."
Jake
giggled and hopped up and down on first one foot, then the other as he made
little chirping sounds, his version of grasshopper talk.
"Hey,
look who's coming, Hoss."
Jake
peeked again and immediately gave up all pretense of being a grasshopper in
favor of being an excited four-year old boy - who'd just spotted his other
daddy.
"poppy!
poppy!"
"None
other, Jake. See? What did I tell you? Always right on time. Not even running
errands can keep poppy from his appointed rounds."
The
black four-door F-250 came to a stop at the curb in front of the Anjasmayo and
smiling, Jim leaned over and said, "Anyone need a ride to the fireworks
stand?"
Blair
opened the back passenger door, watched with delight as Jake scrambled up and
into the truck, then clambored over and into his built-in carseat. In spite of
happy and excited fingers, the boy managed to buckle himself in and smiling
proudly, announced, "to the fireworks and the sparkleeees!"
***<><><>***
Jake
gazed with fascination at the pictures that adorned the make-shift stand, then
his eyes widened at the array of samples behind the mesh screen and the huge
boxes of *assortments*, as his poppy had called them.
"how,
how do i, how do we know what to pick, daddy?"
"the
bestest!" Jake yelled as he ran to the other end of the stand and started
to look in earnest at the many boxes. His eyes strained to read words, to make
the letters mean something and frowning, he turned to his daddy and asked,
"picc...picca-l-o pete? what's that?"
"Only
one of the best, Jake. And it whistles too." Jake looked from his daddy to
his poppy and announced with great conviction, "well then, we must have
picc...alo petes! *tons* of 'em."
"And
fountains, and snakes and...."
"Down
Blair, down," Jim said, laughing. "The King's Collection seems to have
everything we could possibly need, so I say we buy it and get to
Swenson's."
"Spoil
sport. And does it have whistlers? And spirals? And what about showers?"
At
every question, Jake had been nodding his agreement as both he and Blair looked
at Jim.
The
older man's laughter finally drowned out Blair's never-ending questions as Jake
tugged at his father's shirt and asked, "what's a shower? i don't want a
shower on wednesday and *no* snakes!" He pronounced.
Blair
lifted him up and smiling, said, "Believe me, you'll want *these* snakes,
Jake. And showers are fireworks that come in a cone, you light 'em up and they
shoot up a shower of shimmering lights. They are *way* cool!"
Jake
turned his head to gaze up imploringly at Jim. "poppy? showers?
snakes? must have them!"
"Trust
me, guys, this box has it all and plenty of everything. Now you gonna let me do
this?
There's
a hot fudge banana sundae with my name on it, just waiting for me at
Swenson's."
Blair
looked questioningly at Jake who promptly shrugged, hands out in a gesture that
said, *up to you, daddy*. Blair looked up at Jim and said, "Buy away, man,
but remember, if this box doesn't satisfy everyone - it'll be on *your*
shoulders."
Jim
sighed, rolled his eyes and walked up to an open window. "King's
Collection, please."
The
young man on the opposite side smiled and surprised Jim when he said,
"Detective Ellison?"
"Yes...."
before he could say more, the teenager said, "I'm Phillip Barrister,
Detective Don Barrister's son."
"My
God. The last time I saw you - hell, you were...."
"I
know, sir, I know. I was about ten. I've been living with my mother in Missouri.
I just came back to Cascade a few weeks ago. I'll be attending Rainier in the
fall. And sir? If I were you, I'd get the All American Special. It's more
expensive, but believe me, it's worth it. *And* there are five more boxes of sparklers and speaking as
an expert - Jake there will be very satisfied."
Jim
shook his head and when a small hand on his arm made it known that Jake had
overheard; he turned to the boy to see him nodding sagely.
"i
think he's right, poppy. i be very satisfied. gar-en-teeeeeed!"
"Uh,
Phillip, this is my son, Jake, the about to be satisfied owner of the All
American Special and holding him is my partner, Detective Sandburg who will,
judging by the gleam in his eye, also be *very* satisfied. Wrap it up,
Phillip."
"yippee!"
Jake announced to the world.
Jim
and young Phillip talked a bit more with Phillip assuring him that his father
was very happy in his retirement. Before saying their good-byes,
Jim promised to drop in at the pub his friend now owned and then with a
wave, the Ellison-Sandburg-Porter
men headed to Swenson's.
***<><><>***
Jacob
Michael Porter was busy scooping the remnants of his sundae out from the bottom
of the small glass dish as Jim inspected the newly acquired purchase that young
Mr. Porter had insisted they bring into the restaurant with them. Sandburg
watched Jim inspect but there was no smile of appreciation on Blair's face.
As
Blair watched Jim, a frown marring his handsome features, he tried to examine
the nugget of worry that had made itself known at the fireworks stand. The germ
of fear that had popped up when Jim had *failed* to mention that Jake was
*their* son, thus implying that *they* were a couple.
***<><><>***
All
three *men* sat on the living room floor and inspected the contents of the large
box of fireworks. Jim sat crosslegged, Jake in his lap and together they held up
each item so that Blair could read its description from the pamphlet that came
enclosed with their selections. The more Blair described, the bigger Jake's eyes
seemed to get.
"tell
me again."
Both
men knew what Jake was asking. With a patient grin, Jim did the honors.
"Well,
we're all going to meet at Bayside Park around four and...."
"who's
everyone?"
"Simon,"
Blair jumped in, "Megan and Brian, Daryl of course, Joel, Cherry and her
parents, Corky, Jim, you, a whole bunch of firemen and cops, a few people from
the building and that's it."
"you
left out *sum* body, daddy. shame on you."
Eyes
wide with innocence, Blair said, puzzled, "Why, Jake, who did I leave
out?"
In
answer, the Jakester cupped his mouth with his right hand and whispered into
Jim's ear.
"Why,
Jake, I do believe you're right. He *did* leave that person out.
What
shall we do?"
"i
don't go if he doesn't. no matter *how* many sparkleeeeees you bought!"
"Come
to think of it, Jake, neither will I!" Jim announced.
Jake
then wagged a finger at his daddy and admonished, "you left out ...
*you*!"
"No,
no, not possible. However could I do that? Let me do this again...." Blair
then started counting on his fingers....
"Simon
is one, Joel is two, Daryl is three, Megan and Brian are four and five, Corky
would be six, Cherry and her folks would be seven, eight, and nine, you, Jake,
would be ten, Jim would be eleven, and we're not sure how many from the building
will actually be there and then...."
"and
then *YOU*!"
"So
I'd be twelve, right?" Blair asked his son.
"Twelve,
Sandburg? Yeah, that's about right
for you, especially with those showers of yours," Jim said with a wicked
sparkle in his eyes.
"Jake,
my love, duck."
Jake
did as his daddy asked and Blair promptly hit Jim with a pillow from the couch.
The war was on and within minutes, all three were rolling on the floor as
pillows flew and fireworks were carefully moved from harm's way.
***<><><>***
"so
then what?"
Jake
sat in Blair's lap now, all three men still on the floor, tuckered out and
resting after their small war of the pillows. Jim was stretched out beside them,
lying on his back, hands behind his head as he listened.
"Well,
Jim will scout ahead and find us...."
"the
bestest...."
"Yep,"
Blair said with a smile aimed at Jim, "the bestest spot for our picnic.
We'll set up, chow down on...."
"fried
chicken, tater salad with bacon, corn pudding, cruuuu-ton salad with tons of
blue cheesy dressing, ice tea and juice and strawberry...truffle!"
Jim
reached out one lazy hand and tugged at Jake's shorts, saying, "Trifle,
young sir. Strawberry Trifle. The bestest dessert in the world for the Fourth
of...."
"juuuuuly!"
"Absolutely,
Hoss," Blair added.
"then
what, daddy?"
"Well,
as soon as it gets dark, we'll have a great time watching our own fireworks,
taking turns setting them off while you, Cherry and Corky stand by with your
sparklers. When the last fountain is done, we'll settle down on our blankets and
chairs...."
"and
then?"
"And
then the...."
Jake's
head rolled up so he could see his daddy upside down and he grinned and
finished, "fireworks in the sky!"
"You
know, Chief, I've yet to figure out why our son insists on hearing this over and
over again when he knows it like the back of his hand," Jim teased.
Jake
promptly lifted his hand and scrutinized the back of it. Both men laughed.
"fireworks
gonna be beee-u-ti-ful?"
"Totally,
Jake. And the finale will take your breath away," Blair told him.
Jake's
head slid to the side so he could see his poppy who immediately confirmed the
information. "Spectacular, Jake. Totally awesome."
"i'll
go then," he responded with a smug grin.
"Well,
thank God," both fathers said with a laugh.
***<><><>***
"did
you know that cherry is going swumming at the bay park? cherry knows *how* to
swum."
Jake
was kneeling on the bench at the kitchen table, his head down while he helped
sort green beans for Blair. But Sandburg didn't miss the tone of the question.
Nor did Jim, who was giving the chicken a quick grilling for the cold chicken
nicoise salad planned for dinner.
"Uh-huh,
well, there *is* a wading pool at the park, Jake."
"she
knows *how* to swum."
Blair
took the pile of *good* green beans and carried them to the counter where he
dropped them into the now boiling water. As he let them cook, he said, "Um,
Jim? Do you get the feeling that Jake - wants - something?"
"No,
do you?" Jim asked as he took the chicken off the grill pan and placed it
on a paper towel -covered plate.
"Well,
I have this niggling little feeling...."
Jake
covered his face with both hands and groaned dramatically.
"Well,
Chief, I trust your intuition, so if you say he wants something... um, maybe a
car?
Although
I'd have to say he's a might young yet. Oh, I know, he wants...."
"pop-eeeeee,"
the young Mr. Porter said with impatience.
"...to
learn to swim, maybe?"
"You
think, Jim?"
"Just
guessing here, but it's a distinct possibility."
"So,
Jim, man, you know how to swim?"
"Nope.
You?"
"Fraid
not. Guess yon Jake there is fresh out of luck."
"da-deeeeee,"
the young Mr. Porter whined with ever greater impatience.
Blair
ignored the whine and with a grin hidden from Jake's view, he dumped the now
blanched beans into a collander, then into an ice water bath. As he turned, he
found his son standing in front of him, hands on small hips, and glaring up at
him. Jake then waggled a finger at him and accused, "you do *too* know how
to swum. and you must teach me - *now*!"
Jim
put a hand on top of Jake's head and swiveled it so that the boy had to look at
him.
"Maybe
the koi pond? Just throw you in, see how it goes? Then you and your fishies...."
"pop-eeeeeee!"
"must
learn to swum, daddy, must. you already tolt me how to hold my breath and i can,
for a really, reeeeely long time, i can swum, i know i can! please, pretty
please with a cherry on top?"
"Chief,
I think Jake has inherited *your* pout."
"Added
a few finer points to it... and yeah, actually, his pout is *better* than
yours."
Jake
rolled his eyes and waited....
Blair
squatted down and pulled the anxious boy to him.
"Tell
you what, Jake. Tomorrow, after work, Jim and I'll pick you up at Maggie's and
we'll head over to Belmont Plaza Pool, okay? We'll start the lessons tomorrow.
What say you?"
"yippppppppeeeee!"
Jake planted a wet kiss on Blair's cheek and as he danced out of the kitchen, he
chanted, "i'm gonna swum, i'm gonna swum, i'm gonna swum!"
***<><><>***
Blair
put the phone down and frowning, turned to Jim. "No, she isn't.
Her friend isn't doing well at all. The surgery was a success, but
Julie's not healing as fast as hoped, so mom is staying another week."
Jim
rolled over and wrapped his arms around the younger man as he said with a half
smile, "Simon won't be happy."
Blair
turned in Jim's arms and propped himself up on the chest below.
"Ah,
ha! So you've noticed too?"
"Like,
I'd have to be blind not to? And I'm most certainly *not*. He's smitten,
Chief."
"I
know. Oddly enough, I think she is too. I mean, since moving into the loft,
well, let's face it, she's only been gone twice. Once in February and now
because of Julie's surgery."
Jim
stroked a hand over the bare back and down to rest on Blair's right ass cheek.
Also bare.
"Yeah,
but let's face it, a lot of that is having a grandson. She just doesn't want to
miss anything."
"Oh,
sure, but I think some of it is this friendship that's popped up between her and
Simon. Who knew they'd have so much in common?"
Jim
checked the clock, then the bedroom door. Closed. He grinned, rolled over and
consequently onto his partner, who was convienently on his stomach. Fate was a
wonderful thing.
He
let his morning hard-on slide against the round flesh that represented Blair's
very nice ass as he kissed the warm neck that was perfectly positioned next to
his mouth. Logistics - also a wonderful thing.
"mm,
'im?"
"i
should hope so," he whispered.
"time?"
"early."
"jake?"
"quiet,
asleep."
"well
then... bring it on, mr. stud."
"Such
an invite. How could I possibly turn that down?"
"turn
it up, *now*."
Jim
nibbled at Blair's ear lobe, then as the younger man groaned, he murmured,
"such a demanding slut."
For
an answer, Blair lifted his hips, inviting Jim's dick to slide into his crevice.
The feeling sent tremors through both men.
"how,
after how many months?" Jim asked.
"eight.
eight months."
"how,
after eight months, can it still be so good? so new? how can everytime be like
the first?"
"you're
old and have a really bad memory?" Blair teased.
Jim
licked a path from his neck to the end of Blair's shoulder, then tweaked a curl.
"i give you romance, a loving tribute and you accuse me of being *old*?
let's just see *how* old...."
"aw,
god, jim...."
Jim's
hand fumbled in the drawer next to the bed, uncapped the lube, let some squirt
onto his hand, then applied it where it would do the most good. He lifted
Blair's hips even higher as he bit down on the soft skin below Blair's ear. A
groan and a thrust greeted his move and with little preamble, he slid his dick
halfway in, then stopped and held.
"aw,
man, don't do this...don't torture me."
"am
i old, sandburg?" he whispered into a mass of living hair.
"old?
you? never!"
Jim
held the younger man down, refusing to allow him to push back. His own body was
revolting against the punishment of holding steady, of *not* pounding into
Blair, but this was too much fun....
"and
it's *always* like the first time because?"
"jim,
i'm dying here...."
"Because,"
Jim said louder, more demandingly as he nudged further inside Blair's body.
Fingers
gripped the pillows as Blair tried again to push back but Jim held strong.
"because,
because... you're such a fine lover?"
Smiling
in triumph, Jim brought his mouth back to Blair's ear and said, "Ya think,
Darwin?"
"oh,
yeah, yeah, i think. i *know*. now god damn it - do *something*!"
"Your
wish, Sandburg. Your wish."
And
Jim did. He pushed in, then pulled out almost completely before plunging in
again and this time, allowed Blair to join in the rhythm. Moments later, they were both moving, groaning, sweat
clinging to their skin, Blair's hair plastered to his back.
Jim
sped up his thrusts, pounded harder than ever before and found deep satisfaction
as Blair pushed up almost punishingly. He knew that the feel of the sheet below
Blair had to hurt, but also knew the pain was a pleasurable thing, but still, he
*needed* to have his fingers around Blair's dick when he came, needed to feel
the pulsing *aliveness* of the man.
Timing
his thrusts with his hand movement, Jim worked it so that he and Blair would
come together - and they did. In the sound of flesh sliding against flesh, the
delicious moans, the heat of Blair's orgasm spilling over Jim's hand, and his
own, filling Blair....
***<><><>***
"morning."
"morning."
They
both chuckled, then Jim started to shift, to move and Blair said, "don't.
stay just like this."
"weight."
"stay."
Jim
stayed, his body covering Sandburg's, his hands on top of Blair's, his face
buried in the crook of Blair's neck.
***<><><>***
"don't
forget - swumming tonight. my first lesson!"
"Jake,
would Jim and I forget that?"
"better
not! what time, what time?" Jake was jumping up and down in Maggie's living
room, Puddles, Maggie's dog, jumping in tandem.
"Same
as usual, maybe a bit earlier, if we can. Now kiss and we're off."
Jake
gave a butterfly kiss to Blair and an eskimo kiss to Jim, then with orders to
take Puddles outside, he waved and ran for the back door.
"You've
got your hands full today, Mags."
"Apparently,
Blair. But we'll be pretty busy so don't worry."
"Worry?
Us? Nah, never."
Maggie
caught Jim's expression and grinned. "Right. No worries for you two. Get to
work, I'll have him ready for you at the usual time...."
"Or
earlier," Jim added with a grin.
"Or
earlier."
***<><><>***
Mondays
tended to be quiet for Major Crime and usually provided the perfect opportunity
for catching up on paperwork. This Monday proved no different. As Blair typed,
Jim typed. And across from them - Joel typed.
And next to him, Henri typed. Rafe was the only one *not* typing - he was
filing. Megan was lucky, she was in court. The first day of the week was also
famous for court appearances.
"Ah,
Monday. Only the quiet of steady fingers on keyboards."
Simon glanced over at Henri and added, "Some slower than others. And
I'm betting on a bevy of truly imaginative reports on my desk by the end of
shift, right gentlemen?"
No
one missed the fact that the
question and the glare were directed at the team of Ellison and Sandburg. Blair
waved his hand dismissively, never even looking up from his computer screen and
Jim kicked him under the desk.
"No
sir, I was... swatting at a gnat, sir."
A
smothered guffaw from behind Simon did not go unnoticed. Simon leaned over
Sandburg's desk and with both hands braced on the wooden top, he said cheerfully
(much as a spider might speak to a fly), "I'm *sure* you'll have a
brilliant explanation for the arrest of Lewis and Collins on Friday? For the
*how's* of regarding the evidence-gathering skills of Ellison and Sandburg?
*Right*, gentlemen?"
"Oh,
right, sir. Absolutely. And it was simple, really. Jim just...."
"In
writing, Sandburg. In writing." Simon straightened, patted his jacket
pocket, found his keys and headed for his office. At the last minute he turned
around and to Jim, said, "You *are* making your famous corn pudding for
Wednesday, correct?"
The
laughter in the bullpen could be heard all the way down the corridor.
***<><><>***
"Well
that was fun. NOT."
"Aw,
come on, Chief. You needed the exercise."
Blair
shot him a withering look and snarled, "And why was I *alone* in running
down Martin? How is it that you managed to escape not only clean, but with
breath left over?"
"Um,
because --- I took the truck?"
"Schmuck."
"Schmuck
maybe, but a smart schmuck."
Blair
tried to brush some of the caked mud from his jeans, but all he succeeded in
doing was creating a dust storm. Which caused Jim to sneeze. Blair, grinning,
brushed some more - harder.
"You
are in so much trouble, Sandburg."
"Yadda,
yadda. At least with this bust, I can be honest in writing the report. No
obfuscations this time. Just plain old-fashioned detective work brought Martin
down - and my incredibly fine tackle."
"Blair,
*luck* brought Martin down. *And* the fact that you tripped on a tree root and
flew three feet to smash into the man."
"I
*jumped* over the root, Jim. And it wasn't luck that brought us to McMillan's
for lunch."
"Intuition.
I just *knew* that if we ate at McMillan's, something would happen."
Jim
looked over at his partner who was staring up at him, that smug grin on his face
and Jim found himself wishing that they *weren't* surrounded by cops, in the
middle of Exeter Avenue, during rush hour. He knew several truly wicked ways of
wiping smug looks from his partner's face. Oh yeah.
"Listen,
Deacon Jones...."
"God,
you're dating yourself, Jim."
"Listen,
*smartass*, we still have a report to write, I have a partner to clean up and we
have a son to take for his first swimming lesson. You wanna stop jabbering and
get a move on?"
Blair
started for the truck, muttering under his breath and Jim grinned.
It
seemed Blair's plans included *jabbering* Jim - soon.
***<><><>***
"oops!"
The Jakester made a 180 and dashed back through the living room, into the hall,
then into his own room whereupon Jim heard a delighted *whoop*, then the
thundering herd of one returned to his side, the black backpack held aloft.
"found
it, poppy!"
"Good
thing, it has your swim trunks in it. Let's hit the road, Hoss.
Sandburg
and swimming lessons await outside."
Minutes
later, Jake was happily buckled in and chattering about his *swumming* lesson as
Blair pulled the metallic blue Volvo C70 convertible away from the curb.
They
had succeeded in picking Jake up early, as promised, only to discover that
somehow Jake's backpack had been left at home that morning. With a groan from
Jake, Blair had headed *back* to the Anjasmayo. But now, finally, they were on
their way.
The
drive to Belmont Plaza Pool was filled with questions by the passenger in the
back, questions about holding his breath and how he could already hold it in the
bathtub for *way many minutes* and that he could hold his breath for as long as
a polar bear at least, maybe as long as a whale and he didn't even have a blow
hole. Then he moved on to questions about the depth of the pool and how no way
would he start out in the shallow end.
It
seemed that Cherry had told him the shallow end was for sissies and as he
informed his fathers, he was *ab-so-lut-leeee* no sissy, whereupon he received a
lecture about the shallow end and how it would be quite sometime before he might
be ready for the deep end and how there were *no* sissies.
Mr.
Porter pouted for exactly fifteen seconds, the pout ending the moment they
pulled into the parking lot.
Backpack
fitted snugly to his shoulders, Mr. Porter preceeded his fathers into the pool,
proud to tell anyone who asked that he was there for his first *swumming*
lesson. A hand on his head propelled him in the direction of the locker rooms
and nodding happily, he finally allowed himself to be led.
***<><><>***
"wait
, wait, i havta take a *shower*? *before* i swum?"
"Fraid
so, Jake." Blair held out his hand and Jake handed over his backpack, which
now held his clothes. "why can't i take my x-men pack with me, daddy?"
"It
goes in here," and Blair pointed out the locker. "See? The only thing
you take on deck is your towel, your float and us. Oh, and you can wear your
flip-flops."
Blair
stuffed the backpack inside the locker where it rested alongside Jim's and
Blair's street clothes. Sandburg closed it, pulled the key and holding it out to
Jake, said, "You wanna keep this for us, Jake?"
Eyes
wide and clearly saying, *yes, yes*, Jake put out his hand and grinning, Blair
bent down and quickly *pinned* it to Jake's bright green and orange trunks.
"wow,
kewl!"
"Okay,
looks like Jim's ready, I'm ready, *you've* been ready since six this morning.
Let's get wet and head to the pool."
Floppies
flopping, Jake marched to the shower and waited expectantly.
Jim mimicked his march, joined him, reached up and turned on the shower
while Blair took the one on Jim's left.
"anybudy
but me think getting wet *before* getting wet is just plain silly?"
Chuckling,
Jim spritzed water from his fingers into Jake's face, forcing the boy to
retaliate in kind.
"Okay,
children, the pool beckons."
Jim
saluted his partner, as did Jake, and both followed Blair out onto the deck.
"daddy,
why is it called a deck?"
Blair
froze. Turned, then turned his stricken gaze at Jim, who mouthed, *damn*.
Thinking
fast and spotting one of the pool's several lifeguards, Blair said, "Um,
Jake? See that nice man in red trunks?" At Jake's nod, Blair suggested,
"Why don't you ask him? He's called a Lifeguard and he knows all about
*decks* and saving the lives of swimmers."
Naturally
Jake started to *run* to the lifeguard, but was quickly pulled back by Blair.
"Uh,
pardner? NO running on deck - EVER. It's a ruuuule and a good one.
The
deck is slippery and you could hurt yourself or someone else. Okay?"
The
concept of no running seemed to freeze Jake in his tracks - until he looked
around him and found - absolutely nobody running. Not even the other children.
He frowned but nodded his acceptance of the rule.
"never
run on deck. i can do that. *will* do that." Then he walked sedately, sort
of, to the tall, tan, blond lifeguard. Who didn't have the foggiest idea why the
*deck* was called a deck.
Disappointment
written all over his face, Jake returned to his parents.
Shaking his head sorrowfully, he said, "he didn't *know*, daddy. how
can he save my life if he doesn't even *know*?"
Jim
gave Blair his patented, *fix this* look which left Sandburg struggling to
dredge up the answer from his cluttered mind. While he thought, Jim knelt before
his son and said reassuringly, "He needs First Aid and Water Safety, Jake,
in order to know how to save lives, but I don't think he has to know why
this," he indicated the cement they were standing on, "is called a
deck. But I'm betting daddy knows." He glanced up at his mate, a twinkle in
his eye as he said, "Right, Chief?"
Flipping
Jim off was Blair's preferred answer, but unfortunately Jake had turned around
and now stood with upraised face, favoring his father with a shining expression
of hope and expectance. Promising himself mentally to *get* Jim later, Blair
took a deep breath and started in....
"Um,
well, Jake, see, the flooring on a ship is called a deck, based on the dutch
word *dekke* spelled, d-e-k-k-e, which meant *covering*.
*Dekke* is actually two words, *dek* or roof and *ecken* to cover. See?
The *roof cover* is what separated you from being *in* the ship, versus
on *top* and walking around.
"Since
this flat surface," like Jim had, Blair indicated the cement, watching as
Jake's round blue eyes followed his hand, "surrounds the water, in this
case, a pool, well, you can see why we've adopted the word *deck*. And just like
on a boat, you can jump off the *deck* and into the water." Blair sighed
heavily as he finished and flashed his son a bright smile - then waited.
Jake
nodded sagely, then asked, "so i can't run on the deck of a ship either? or
maggie's deck?"
Jim
looked skyward, in this case seeing only the high ceiling of the indoor swimming
pool, and started whistling.
"Um,
no, Jake, it's not quite the same. Now turn around and look at the *deck* we're
standing on. How is it different from Maggie's?"
Jake
did as he was told while Blair pinched Jim, then Jake turned back and said,
"it's alllllll wet."
"Right,
this deck is wet. Kids jumping into the water, getting in and out, walking wet.
And this material is very slippery, like our walkway in the winter. And if
something is slippery...."
"and
you run, you're gonna faaaaall!"
Smiling
proudly, Blair nodded. "Yep. Exactly. Now on a boat, we wear special shoes,
called *deck* shoes...."
"can
i go swumming now, daddy?"
"Yeah,
*daddy*, can we go *swumming* now?" Jim chimed in for emphasis.
Blair,
just warming up to his dissertation on the subject of deck shoes, snorted, then
with a grin, relented.
The
building held two pools, one Olympic sized, the other a much smaller and
shallower version that was adjacent but separated by two diving boards and one
diving platform that climbed high into the air. As the three walked toward the
smaller pool, Jake's eyes followed the huge diving tower up, eyes growing
rounder with each level.
"daddy?"
"That's
a diving platform, Jake. Here at the pool they hold competitions called *swim
meets* and *diving meets*. Kids from about five on up compete, usually by
joining clubs or teams. Belmont Plaza is host to the Cascade Dolphins, our own
swimming and diving team."
The
gleam that immediately sparkled in Jake's eyes told both Jim and Blair that
somehow, at some point, they were going to be buying swim suits, towels and
caps, all imprinted with the name; Cascade Dolphins.
'i'm
gonna be a swummer. i am."
Smiling,
they guided him to a long empty bench a few feet from the pool.
Jim set the towels down while Blair pulled the round bright yellow
floater out of the plastic carryall they'd brought on deck. Sandburg sat on the
bench and the moment Jim sat down beside him, Blair handed over the floater, a
wicked gleam in his eye.
"Here
you go, Jim. Start blowing."
Jim
crossed his eyes at his mate, then - started blowing. Meanwhile, Jake crawled
onto Blair's lap and watched his floater take shape as air was blown into it.
When it was full and capped, Jim held it out proudly, announcing, "Ta-da!"
Slipping
Jake's floppy's off his wiggling feet, Blair quipped, "Gee, Jim, you're
just so magnificent, so much hot air and finally a place to...."
"Sandburg...."
Jim warned, his lips twitching.
"So
Jake," Blair said, completely ignoring Jim. "You ready to go in?"
"yup!
let's do it!"
All
three stood and with floater in hand, they walked to the stairs. By some
unspoken agreement, Jim went in first while Blair and Jake stood on the first
step.
"Okay,
Hoss, this is how it goes down. I'm gonna carry you in and you and I are going
to have some fun, you're going to show me how long you can hold your breath,
then we'll put the floater on and you can take it from there. Okay?"
"'kay!
up please."
Chuckling,
Blair lifted him and after settling him on his hip, he stepped all the way down
and into the pool. The water was a balmy 75 degrees and fortunately the smaller
pool had only a few older children playing and swimming as well as a couple of
older adults. Blair started toward Jim, who'd walked into the area of the pool
that measured about three and a half feet in depth. He'd bent at the knees and
had already ducked his head under water, then popped up, swiped the water from
his face, and now watched Blair and Jake.
As
Blair waded over, his hand gently splashing Jake, Jim realized that he'd never
seen Blair swimming. Hell, he'd never even seen him in swim trunks. And man,
what he'd been missing. The guy looked good enough to eat - which Jim felt he
should probably do - later. With his hair tied back and the navy blue board
shorts with the the white stripes down the side, shorts that hugged his hips,
fitting so nicely over....
Jim
decided to concentrate on Jake and his first *swumming* lesson.
"Okay,
Jake, we're going to take a few practise holds first, then we'll do the real
thing. Now this water isn't like at home, it's chlorinated...."
"klornated?"
"Um,
it has chemicals in it to protect you because there are so many people in the
water. Chlorine keeps the water clean and safe."
"like
mr.bubbly?"
"Um,
kind of. Okay, you ready for your first deep breath?" At a nod, Blair said,
"Right then, on three, we both hold."
"long
as i can?"
"Long
as you can. One, two, three...."
Both
took deep breaths and Jake's cheeks ballooned as he held. Several seconds later,
his air rushed out and Blair immediately followed suit.
"Good
job, Hoss. Let's do it two more times, than we'll really go under." With
Jake's excited nod, Blair counted again and again they held. After the third
time, Blair coached, "Now, when I take us under, Jake, I want you to open
your eyes and look at me, okay?"
"'kay."
The
water was warm enough that splashing a little on Jake to prepare him was all
that was needed. Holding him close, Blair said, "All right, on three, we
hold and I take us under. When you can't hold anymore, let all the air out and
we'll come up. Ready?"
"go!"
Holding
their breaths, with Jim doing the same, Blair took them down.
Once under, Jake opened his eyes as promised and grinned, which caused
him to expel all his breath.
Laughing,
Blair and Jim popped back up with a blinking, sputtering Jake who was pushing
curls away with both hands.
Blair
and Jake went under several more times, staying longer each time.
Jim, suddenly feeling strangely uncomfortable, leaned against the side of
the pool and watched, frowning.
Unaware
of Jim's anxiety, Blair, on their fifth try, moved around once they were under,
letting Jake get used to movement, and watching as he tried to see. His grip was
firm but trusting and Jake clearly loved every minute of it.
When
they came up again, Jim, at a signal from Sandburg, grabbed the floater and
brought it back. Suddenly, Mr. Porter wasn't so keen on using it.
"do
i have to, daddy? wear that? nobody else has one...."
"Well,
Jake, no one else is four. And no one else is learning how to swim tonight. So
yes, you *have* to wear it. Arms up, young man."
Pouting,
Jake held up his arms and Jim slipped the floater over and down until it fit
snugly around Jake's waist. As soon as it was in place, Blair let go.
The
surprise of being in the water, bolstered by the yellow tube stunned Jake into
speechlessness. Then, like a natural, he began to kick. And move. Fast.
"daddy!
poppy! look at me!"
"Use
your arms too, Jake. Like a scooper. Cup your hands and keep your fingers tight
togther...."
Jake
did as instructed and in seconds, he was moving even faster, paddling like a
puppy and yelling joyously.
Both
men had to swim to catch up to him, but then spent several minutes watching,
splashing and chasing and the knot in Jim's stomach seemed to fade with Jake's
increasing joy. When they'd been in the water over thirty minutes, a voice
boomed from a loudspeaker.
"All
swimmers must leave the main pool which closes in fifteen minutes.
Please
begin to exit the pool. Thank you."
Jake
stopped kicking and bobbing along as he cried out, "we have to leave? we
have to, daddy?"
"No,
Hoss, we don't. They're clearing out the big pool because in thirty minutes, the
swim team comes in and starts practising. We're fine in here."
On
cue, several lifeguards began to drop long lines of blue and white buoys in the
water and then jumping in after them, grabbing the end line and swimming to the
other end of the pool where they hooked the lines into the gutter.
Jake
immediately started kicking until he reached Jim, then asked, "up, poppy?
can i see?"
Removing
the tube and handing it off to Blair, Jim hefted Jake onto his shoulders so the
boy could watch.
"what
are they doing, daddy?"
"Those
are lanelines, Jake. So the swimmers each have a competition lane to swim in.
When they start, you'll see maybe five or ten in each lane and they'll start
doing what's called *laps*. Some will be for warm-up, some will be timed and all
will be in sets."
"'splain
*sets*."
"Yeah,
daddy, 'splain *sets*."
Cupping
his hand and hitting the water, Blair sent a small wave into Jim's face, then
smiling innocently, went on.
"They
might be told to do, say, four laps of the pool - five times, with minute
intervals. See the big clock they're bringing on deck?"
Both
Jim and Jake nodded, Jim as interested in this as his son.
"Well,
it will be started, the swimmers will take off and after four laps, they'll
wait, watch the clock and after a minute, will start another set. See?"
"why?"
"Several
reasons, Jake. One, to build stamina, two, to learn how to time themselves and
three, to challenge themselves. See, in swimming, you're racing not only against
fellow swimmers, but also the clock. Swimming is a timed sport, with each event
having a *fastest* time and swimmers trying to *beat* it."
"how
do they get the fastest time?"
"Someone
like you, sets it. A swimmer in a race sets a fast time, he or she wins, and
maybe that time stands for weeks or months or even years before someone breaks
it and becomes the new record holder."
Saucer-wide
eyes blinked as Jake breathed out an awed, *wow*.
"Yeah,"
Jim agreed as he tugged one of Jake's legs, "Wow."
**<~~~~
The
rest of the lesson flew by as Jake got the chance to be a Sea World attraction
by hanging on to his daddy's neck with one arm while Blair, pretending to be
Shamu, swam from one length of the small pool to the other, Jake holding on for
dear life and giggling madly as his body bumped and bounced off of Blair's. As
Jim watched his partner's strokes, he realized why Sandburg knew so much about
swimming - he swam like a pro. A pro with a four-year old on his back, but a pro
nevertheless.
The
highlight of the lesson was the moment when the yellow tube was discarded,
temporarily, and floating on Blair's outstretched arms, Jake got to *swim*
toward Jim. Small, pale arms stroked crazily as equally pale, skinny legs kicked
wildly. Jake never noticed when Blair let him *slide* from his arms and seconds
later, a jubilant Jim lifted the boy from the water with a loud *yoohaw!* and
raised him above his head to wild clapping from Blair.
"am
i, poppy? am i? will i be good? did i do good?"
"You
did great, Jake." Then turning to Blair, Jim asked, "So when's the
next lesson? And what happens next?"
"tomorrow!
yippee!"
"Tomorrow
it is and on the agenda, you, my little guppy, will learn to... float!"
Blair
missed the sudden pallor of Jim's face as he was too busy trying to avoid Jake,
who was attempting to bite the finger that Blair had tapped on his nose.
Giving
himself a mental shake, Jim said, "Come on, guys, time to get out, grab
some grub and head home."
***~~~~~~~~
While
Jake's natural inclination was to run back to the locker room, he held back and
*walked*, ever mindful of the wet decking. It was hard, but he did it. Once
inside the locker room, he was treated to a shower with his fathers, all still
in their trunks and they had almost as much fun with the shampoo as Jake had
experienced in the pool. He got to help his daddy shampoo his hair while poppy
shampooed his blond curls.
One
hair dryer and several minutes later, Jake had semi-dry hair, was out of his wet
trunks and into warm sweat pants, a red and yellow striped shirt and his hooded
jacket. His flip-flops were removed and replaced by warm socks and his ratty
white tennis shoes.
While
Jake sat on a bench, squeezing the air out of his floater, Jim and Blair took
turns in a changing room as they listened to Jake's chatter.
Once
back into street clothes and Blair's damp hair tied back, they packed up the wet
towels and trunks, returned the locker key and headed out. Back on deck, the
swim practise was in full swing.
"can
we watch, pretty please?"
Sandburg
looked up at Jim, who shrugged and said, "There's a food stand just
outside, still open. Why not make a treat of it? I'll go get the food and you
two find some seats on the bleachers?"
Jim
grinned and said, "I'll take that as a yes. While I get the food, daddy
will 'splain *bleachers*...."
"Jim...."
But
Jim was already jogging toward the exit.
"daddy?
bleachurs?"
Eyes
crossing, Blair took Jake's hand and started for the - stands.
"Well
see, they were just wooden stands, like at a baseball game, and in the sun the
wood would be bleached white by the heat...."
***<><><>***
"Oh,
yeah, Chief. Sound. He is one waterlogged guppy, my little guppy."
Jim
sat down beside Blair and immediately began to nibble an ear.
"Aw,
man...."
As
Jim's mouth suckled a lobe, Blair's fingers were unbuttoning Jim's shirt....
"where
did you learn to swim, chief? Jim managed as he moved his attention to Blair's
neck.
"oh,
the usual. one of mom's boyfriends - a swim coach...." Blair's hands were
traveling over Jim's chest, rubbing across the broad expanse of skin....
"so
you were on a swim team?" Jim mumbled into heated skin.
"um,
yeah. loved it, was the only sport i was really," Blair stopped, moaned,
then went on....
"good
at...."
"what
about," Jim licked across Blair's jaw, "basketball?"
"get
real - that was an obfuscation to get him to play with... us and don't stop,
keep doing... that...."
"but
you're," Jim tugged with his teeth and pulled at Blair's lower lip,
"good at it...."
"well,
sure, *now*... mmm, oh, yeah, that's good...."
"so,
set any records in swimming? win any medals?"
"uh...
oh, hey, wow, that's - different... um, medals? oh, yeah. held the 100 meter
freestyle record at a tri-city meet for one week...."
"i
knew when i first called you my little guppy, i was... right on the
money...."
Jim
slid down Blair's body, his fingers tugging at the younger man's jeans....
"yeah,
yeah, that's me - a guppy, but all...oh yeah jim... but all grown... up...
now...."
Staring
at Blair's dick, now freed, Jim nodded happily. "oh, yeah, all grown up ---
and out."
Chuckling,
Blair said, "oh i'm out all right. all the way...."
Then
he yelped as Jim went down on him - all the way....
Crime,
Rafe immediately stood and said the dreaded words, "He wants you - *now*.
And you guys are late."
"We're
early, Rafe, but who asked you?" Blair replied with a grin. "You our
gatekeeper now?"
"Only
when Simon takes his anger out on me - because you guys aren't here yet."
Blair
glanced up at Jim and eyes round, said, "Uh-oh. What did you do now,
Jim?"
Ellison
pretended to give it some thought, then cracked wise with, "Um, maybe it
was the fact that I glued his cigar to his desk?"
"That
would do it, all right. In that case, he's all yours, Jim. I'll just stay
behind...."
"Sandburg?
Would you mind gracing my office with your overwhelming presence?"
Simon
stood at the door to his office, his voice soft, his eyes hard.
Blair didn't bother looking up at his partner, instead moving forward,
immediately worried about his Captain. Jim started to join him, but Blair waved
him off.
As
soon as Blair stepped past him, Simon shut the door, indicated Blair's usual
seat and after the detective took the chair, Simon perched on the edge of his
desk.
"Daryl's
what's wrong, Sandburg. Just when were you going to tell me about his asking to
move into the available apartment at the Anjasmayo?"
Blair
blinked up at his boss, surprised by both the anger and the news.
He
*hadn't* known about Daryl.
"Simon,
I'm confused. I'm not the manager, John Holder is and I'm not aware of
Dar...."
"I'm
not sure... maybe, but...."
"I'd
appreciate it if you'd refrain from sharing that kind of information with *my*
son in the future, Sandburg. He's *not* moving out, he *just* moved back with me
now that he's attending Rainier in the fall. Is that clear?"
For
a moment, Blair could only stare at his boss - and friend. Okay, he was a father
himself now and could understand Simon's desire to keep Daryl with him, at least
a while longer, but the hardness of Simon's request, the anger directed at
him... that he was finding very hard to take. Or understand.
Slowly
Blair stood, knowing that he had to be careful and glad that Jim was *not*
listening thanks to a promise made months ago.
"I
don't deserve this, Simon. If you have something to say about Daryl and his
possible desire to move out - I suggest you say it to him, not me. I'll also
assume that this was between two friends," he stressed the word *friends*,
"and not Captain to Detective." Then Blair turned, walked to the door,
opened it and stepped out, closing said door softly behind him.
As
Blair approached his desk, he smiled and shrugged as Jim shot him a questioning
look.
"Hey,
he just needed my sound advice on something, Jim. You know how indispensible I
am around here."
Glad
that he'd become an expert in schooling his emotions from his sentinel, partner,
lover and best friend, Blair sat down and immediately reached for a folder,
opened it and started reading.
Jim
watched his partner, a small frown creasing his forehead. The words, the body,
the expression, all said that the meeting with Simon had been just that; one man
seeking the advice of another, but... something about Blair, maybe the *choice*
of wording, screamed a different answer. But Jim Ellison was a patient man, and
all things came to those who waited - so he'd wait.
The
rest of the day was as to be expected for the men and women of Major Crime - it
was, after all, one day before the Fourth. There were frantic calls about
explosions, stolen fireworks tracked down before lunch, and to top it off, an
entire fireworks stand had *supposedly* disappeared.
Because
Rafe and Henri were tracking down witnesses to a shooting at the train station
and Conner was in court, Simon turned the disappearing fireworks stand over to
the team of Ellison and Sandburg. A case that should have gone to Burglary. But
the stand was one of the many *trailer* stands that dotted the landscape in late
June and early July and belonged to the Boy Scouts of America. In this case, the
stand was sponsored by Troop 348 and the mayor's son was a member.
After
an afternoon of good old fashioned legwork and Jim's senses picking up the trail
of tire tracks and the smell of bubble gum, the two detectives discovered that
four kids, ages twelve to sixteen, with help from two members of Troop 348, had
hooked the stand up to the sixteen year old's truck, and driven it off while the
sellers were at lunch.
It
seemed the kids were protesting the Boy Scouts ruling against allowing gays to
join their ranks and thought that no one should purchase fireworks from their
stand. By the end of the day, the children had been turned over to their parents
and the Boy Scouts were refusing to press charges, wisely realizing that they
couldn't afford anymore bad publicity.
Simon
had remained in his office, door closed, and by the time Jim and Blair had
returned from solving the earth shattering and long to be remembered *Case of
the Missing Fireworks Stand*, Simon was gone. For the day.
As
Blair stared at the closed door, he squashed down his disappointment and started
worrying about tomorrow's plans. If Simon remained angry, well, there'd be no
way it could be hidden from Jim. Or anyone else for that matter. He shoved his
concerns down and prepared for going home, picking up their son and enjoying
swimming lesson number two, followed by the preparation of some of the picnic
food for tomorrow.
***<><><>***
"It's
a swim meet. Even the small pool isn't open tonight."
"daddy?"
Jake questioned as he looked from one father to the other. They were standing in
front of Belmont Plaza Pool and from inside could be heard the loud cheering
from excited parents and swimmers.
Blair
glanced down and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hoss, but you heard Jim. Looks
like lesson number two will have to wait."
Jake
looked from his parents to the steam covered windows of the building that held
*his* pool. Kids were going in and out, all of them wearing different colored
sweats with all kinds of writing on the back, many of the kids with wet heads,
all of them laughing and energetic. He wanted to join them - to watch them.
"can
we watch, daddy? poppy?"
Together,
Jim and Blair said, "Why not?" And laughing, all three walked to the
entrance where Jim forked over the six dollar admission fee, assured that in
doing so, he was helping to fund the Cascade Dolphins.
As they walked in, Blair said under his breath, "hey, why not? we're
probably funding *jake* for the future."
Agreeing,
Jim walked in as Blair held open the door. They quickly found seats in the third
row of the center bleachers, about halfway down the length of the pool. The air
smelled heavily of chlorine and Blair had to remind Jim to turn everything down.
All
around them, kids in Speedos and/or sweats sat, lounged or walked.
Parents clapped and cheered and overhead, red, white and blue flags were
stretched from one end of the building to the other. Jake was settled on Jim's
lap and silently watched everything, his head and eyes seeming to be everywhere
at once.
"daddy,
lookee, a tent!" he exclaimed, pointing across the pool at another set of
bleachers.
"Yep,
the kids all pick out different spots and their team congregates there to rest
between events. See, another tent over there, by the diving platform."
Jake
nodded, eyes wide with excitement, his legs bouncing against Jim's.
"how
many teams, daddy?"
Blair
looked up at the scoreboard and answered, "Looks like about twenty, Jake.
This is a big swim meet. And look over there, on the other side of our small
pool," he indicated another tent, this one bright blue and flying a flag
that proudly proclaimed, *Cascade Dolphins*.
"See?
That's *our* team."
"the
dofins," Jake breathed out in awe.
"Yep,
the Cascade Dolphins. And according to the big scoreboard over there, we're
ahead."
"ahead?"
"Yep.
This is a team competiton too, Jake. And for every first, second and third place
your teammates score, your team wins points. Sometimes the points can be for up
to an eight place finish."
"and
we're ahead?"
"Yep."
"yippee!"
The
next two hours were loud, fun and exciting as they watched several heats of the
Men's and Women's 100 Meter Breastroke. They cheered madly everytime the
loudspeaker announced that one of the swimmers on the block was a Dolphin and
they screamed when a Dolphin won a heat. They were all disappointed when it was
discovered that the Finals were scheduled for later that evening, at eight. Jake
was surprisingly understanding though when it was decided that they couldn't
stay. Of course, both Jim and Blair were quite sure that Jake's acceptance when
they had to leave had a great deal to do with the fact that it had been promised
that on Friday, the last day of the meet, they'd return for the Finals.
***<><><>***
Jim
was frying up the chicken, which had been marinating in buttermilk since the
previous evening, while Blair and Jake made the potato salad.
As Blair chopped first the pickles, then the olives and eggs, Jake
gleefully scooped them up and bombed the potatoes. Blair couldn't fail to notice
that while *all* of the pickles and *all* of the olives made it to the bowl, a
good quarter of the chopped egg made it only as far as Jake's mouth.
"yup!
bring it on, daddy!"
Blair
handed over eight strips of now cooled but crunchy bacon and Jake pounded into
it with all the energy of an excited four year old. When he was done, he
*bombed* the potatoes one final time.
Once
everything was mixed in with the potatoes, Blair added the sour cream-mayonnaise
mixture, letting Jake do the stirring. When Jake pronounced it *mixed*, Blair
added the salt and pepper to taste. When it met his standards, Blair covered the
mixture and put it into the refrigerator, along with Jim's corn pudding that had
been made earlier.
The
chicken was done and draining, so Jim was immediately recruited to cook the
Bird's Custard for the trifle.
While
Jim stirred the custard, Blair sliced strawberries, added a small amount of
sugar, then put the bowl into the fridge until tomorrow. When the custard was
finished and cooling and everything ready that could be made ready, the *men*
took it into the living room.
As
they settled in, Blair said, "So Jake, before bed, a story or would you
rather go and play for a little while?"
"story.
must have story!"
Jim
stood before the bookcase, his finger running down some titles....
"What
will it be, Master Jake? A little Dr. Suess? Or...."
"real
story, must have a real story! firework story, poppy!"
Jim
swung the pajama-clad and still strawberry sticky Jake into his arms and walked
to the couch where he dropped down beside Blair. "So, a firework story, eh? Well, I do believe I have
just the one. About me and Uncle Steven and one Roman Candle. You ready?"
Resting
his head against his poppy's chest, Jake snuggled in, grabbed his daddy's hand
and said, "all ready!"
"Okay
then. This was in 1971 and I was eight years old...."
"you
were *big*!"
"Yep,
and almost nine. Stevie was six and he couldn't wait for the Fourth. He loved
the fireworks and the fun. Anyway, my best friend, Stanley, also almost nine,
had a big brother named Marshall and Marshall, who was fifteen, had hidden a
whole box of fireworks under his bed. Well, Stanley thought *he* should have
some under *his* bed, so he raided the box and took one of the Roman
Candles."
"uh-oh."
"Jake,
methinks you have figured where this is going, eh?"
"tell,
tell...."
"Right.
Anyway, I went over to his house on the third and I had to bring Stevie and
Stanley showed us the candle. Naturally Stevie wanted to light it right away,
but being the good older brother, I said no. Then Stanley and I went downstairs
to get some cookies...."
"uh-oh."
"Yep,
uh-oh, because it seemed that Stanley had incense in his room *and* matches. And
Stevie found the matches. Big uh-oh. Now remember, he was only six so it never
occured him to take the darn thing out from under the bed, which turned out to
be a very good thing.
"Anyway,
somehow, he managed to light a match, something he'd never done in his life
*and* he was on his knees, *and* under the bed at the time, but he still did it
and lit the candle."
"uh-oh.
ka-boom?"
"Well,
not exactly ka-boom, no. The candle had a long fuse and Stevie was so excited by
what he'd done that he ran downstairs to tell us. I dropped my cookies and ran
up just as the candle went off."
"what
did it look like, poppy?"
"Well,
like a really big... uh-oh."
"oops."
"Yep,
exactly. Oops. Sparks were flying out from under the bed, the candle was
whistling and Stanley and Stevie thudded into me, quickly followed by Stanley's
mother, father, two older sisters and of course - Marshall."
"what
happened next?"
"The
candle finished its run, nothing caught on fire because the bed had plastic
covers on it, like all the rest of the furniture...."
"You
must have been in heaven at Stanley's house, Jim," Blair teased.
"Oh
yeah. You had to take your shoes off before you went into their home. They even
had plastic runners on the floor. Anyway, thanks to the plastic, no fire. Just a
really pretty bedroom for about 28 seconds."
Jake
giggled and said, "silly uncal stevie."
"*Lucky*
Uncle Stevie," Blair amended.
"lucky
- no boom!"
Jim
tickled his son, who giggled and tried to bat the treacherous fingers away.
"And young man, if you were faced with the same temptation, what would you
do?" Jim asked as he continued to tickle.
"never
play with matches - never, never ever."
"Amen,"
Blair added with a smile.
***<><><>**
"He's
so damn bright, Blair."
"He
trusts us right now, Jim. We're his whole world. The difference will be when he
starts school and is suddenly surrounded by his peers. *Then* we'll know if
we've taught him well."
Grinning,
Blair tossed a pillow at Jim as together they began to get the bed ready for
sleep.
"Nah,
not worried. You're a great father, he's loved to within an inch of his life,
he's surrounded by people who love him and teach him, nah, I'm not worried.
Much."
As
the bedspread was folded neatly by Jim and placed on the stool at the end of the
bed, he looked at his lover and asked, "Do you think he's spoiled? Have we
spoiled him?"
"Gee,
I don't know, Jim. Do we give him everything he wants?"
"Hardly."
"Do
we say no to him?"
"Constantly."
"Does
he have temper tantrums on any regular basis?"
"Jake?
You're kidding, right?"
"And
when we're not around, how does he behave?"
"Well,
according to Maggie and Makeba, he's... oh, I get it. No, he's not spoiled.
Okay, point taken."
"He
isn't, but he *is* loved, constantly and told continually. We're both physically
and verbally demonstrative and he feels safe. In that - he's spoiled
rotten."
"Damn
but you're smart."
"Nope,
but facts are facts. And let's face it, Karen," his voice hitched a bit,
"was wonderful for him and with him. She was the first to give him a sense
of security and unconditional love. We're just carrying on what she
started."
"You
know, Mr. Sandburg, I love you."
"That's
good, cause I love you too. Always nice when two parents love one another, don't
you think?"
"Jerk."
"Uh-huh."
"Bed
seems to be ready."
"So
it is."
"We
should get in it, the Fourth comes mighty early, which means we'll be bombarded
by Jake at the crack of dawn."
"I
think that's more than enough, don't you? I *love* getting in *it*."
Laughing,
Blair jumped into bed, bounced on his back and wiggled one finger. "So?
Whatcha waiting for, Christmas? Let's get you *in*."
Crime, Rafe immediately stood and said the dreaded