"What are you going to bring for Thanksgiving, Megan?"

Megan looked over at Blair. "I'm invited, then?"

"Don't insult me--of course you're invited," said Blair. "The whole Bull Pen is invited. Jim and I are going to have to decide between TV trays and card tables for the over flow. Anyway, I'm asking you early because Jim and I are going to be making lists tonight of who's bringing what, and the menu, and such. So, what's your Thanksgiving specialty?"

"Australia doesn't have Thanksgiving, Sandy. I'll bring wine."

"Great. I'll let you know what we decide on, so you'll know what kind to bring." Megan stared at him. "What?"

"This isn't your first Thanksgiving with Jim, is it?"

"Well, no. But last year the feast sort of, uh, got side tracked." He was blushing. "Anyway, I'll try to have it for you by tomorrow."

"Right." As Blair left, Megan muttered, "Turkey--white wine."

***

Blair pushed his plate to the side and pulled over a pad and pencil. Jim looked up from the last of his enchiladas. "What are you taking notes on now?"

"We're menu planning tonight, right?"

Jim frowned. "I don't see why. I know what we're having."

"You can't. We haven't discussed it yet."

"Blair, it's Thanksgiving."

"I know. Okay, the first order of business is the main course. Now, I have this great recipe for a pork roast with dried fruit..."

"It's Thanksgiving."

"I guess a pork roast might not go far enough, considering how many people we're having over. How about a ham? You can get them already glazed and spiral sliced."

"Blair, hams are for Easter. Thanksgiving--turkey."

"If it HAS to be fowl, how about Cornish game hens? One each. Okay, TWO for you, Joel, Henri, and Simon."

"Read my lips--turkey. There's a reason why Thanksgiving is also called Turkey Day."

"Yeah--the complete commercialization of what was originally meant to be a celebration of spiritual gratitude. Okay, you win." Blair made a note. "Turkey. A big one. You know, deep fried turkeys are getting really popular." Jim stared at him. "Roasted. That's okay. You can do a lot with stuffing. I think that an apple-sausage one might..."

"Simon is bringing his grandmother's oyster stuffing on the side, but I'll be making cornbread, like I learned from Sally."

"Oh." Family tradition, can't object to that, I guess. "Okay, cornbread stuffing. Now, for starters how about a winter squash soup? Nice and warming, and I could serve it in hollowed out squashes. Very Martha Stewart."

"Soup at Thanksgiving? Don't think so. The Chex mix, chips and dips, and sausage balls will do for before dinner, so we don't need a starter." Blair was staring at him. "What?"

"Never mind. Now, side dishes..."

"Green bean casserole, mac and cheese, potato salad, and green rice casserole."

"I've got a good recipe for oven roasted root vegetables."

"Not with the potato salad."

"I was thinking instead of the potato salad."

"Thanksgiving without potato salad?"

"I don't see how you can qualify potato salad as a traditional Thanksgiving food! Potato salad is more... I don't know. Fourth of July."

"Yes--and Thanksgiving."

"Oh, for crying--" Blair scratched angrily on the pad. "Potato salad. Cranberry relish..."

"Sauce."

"Jim..."

"I'm not having that lumpy stuff with the whole cranberries. The canned kind is perfectly good."

"It has the texture of library paste."

"Right. It goes down smooth."

Blair gritted his teeth, counting to ten. The pattern had been set, but he still had to try. "Cheddar biscuits..."

"Brown and serve rolls. You look feverish, Blair. I told you not to eat that jalapeno."

"After some of the stuff I've eaten on expedition, I could chew that jalapeno up and gargle with it. That's not what's making me hot." Jim looked at him quizzically. It's the holidays-- be charitable. "Okay, all that leaves is dessert, and that's where I really shine. How about pecan pie?"

"Pumpkin."

Son of a-- "Mince?"

"Pumpkin."

I will not kill him. "Okay, if you have to have pumpkin, I saw this great recipe on the Food Channel for a gingerbread- pumpkin trifle."

"Make it if you want to, but you'll have to find somewhere else to do it. I'm going to have the stove and oven busy."

Blair dropped the pencil, saying tonelessly, "Well, this was simpler than I thought it was going to be."

He gathered up the plates and took them to the sink, quickly running water over them. When he started to turn away, Jim handed him the bottle of dish liquid. "I thought I'd let them sit a little while"

Jim reached past him and turned on the hot water. "We'll do them now."

"Later."

"Now."

"Jim, it won't hurt to leave them for just..."

"I'll rinse and we'll both dry."

Blair started washing. One... two... three... four... I'm going to have to count to a hundred--ten isn't going to do it.

As they worked, Jim thought that Blair was looking particularly good tonight. He was pouting about something, and damn, didn't that make him look sexy. Well, some people just got a little out of sorts when the holidays started. He ought to be able to snap him out of it. They were done, and Blair was drying his hands on a towel. Jim leaned over and blew in his ear. "Bed?" he said seductively.

Blair stared at him. "Was that a suggestion?"

Jim nodded, smiling. "Bed?"

Blair returned the smile, and there was something wicked about it. "Wait here." He went upstairs, and Jim went and turned off the lights, his anticipation growing.

"Jim?"

Jim looked up eagerly. A pillow smacked him in the face, then he was shrouded by a blanket. He struggled loose to find Blair peering at him balefully over the railing. His voice firm, he spoke one word that told Jim that maybe he was being a bit too stubborn about his holiday traditions.

"Couch!"

The End.