Sheriff James Ellison straightened his tie and plucked a piece of lint from his immaculate navy-blue long-sleeved shirt. He double checked his gray slacks, pleased with the neat pleat down the front of each leg. He walked toward the mens' locker room located in the basement of the County Building, wondering where in the world his four deputies were. The meeting scheduled for the squad room had been moved to the locker room, the note attached to his telephone had said, leaving the sheriff puzzled.
After exiting the elevator, he carefully listened for sounds of the officers, cautious about using his hearing these days. Ever since he had spent five days last month tracking a pair of lost hikers -- four of those days spent alone -- he had noticed that his senses would spike uncontrollably.
Jim considered his overactive senses for another moment before he shook off his thoughts and pushed open the door to the locker room. Four voices shouted at once, making him flinch. Luckily, he had stopped concentrating on the voices and the shouts of his officers were overly loud, but not painful.
"What's going on here?" Jim demanded.
The three men and one woman stood in a loose group in front of one of the benches. Silly grins and wide smiles were plastered on their faces, making Jim shake his head in wonder and grin back at their apparent happiness.
"What?" Jim asked again, hands spread wide.
Megan Conner, the newest deputy to be sworn in, spoke first. "We've heard a little rumor, Sheriff," she said in her thick Australian accent. She grinned, rocking back on the heels of her feet.
"You have, have you?" Jim asked cheerfully. "And what might that be?"
Deputy Joel Taggart spoke next. "We heard you were intoxicated while on duty."
"Yeah, on the job. Can you believe that?" Deputy Henri Brown chimed in, elbowing his closest companion, Deputy Tim Martin. Tim nodded vehemently and grinned.
"Oh?" Jim raised an eyebrow. "And from where did this momentous information emanate?"
After exchanging quick glances, the four turned their backs to the sheriff, grabbed items off the bench and turned back around, quickly crossing the small space that separated them from the sheriff. In their hands, they each held a green bottle of champagne. They shook the bottles while they advanced on Jim, who threw up his hands and took a step back, laughing.
"We heard you were getting married on Sunday!" Joel chortled, moving his finger just enough to spray a geyser of cool wine onto the front of Jim's spotless uniform.
Laughing deeply, Brown and Martin joined in, squirting long streams of the champagne on Jim's back and legs. Conner shook her bottle and moved her finger. When the liquid failed to spurt in the expected fountain, she took a step closer to Jim and poured almost the entire bottle over his head.
Jim sputtered and covered his face with his hands until his officers felt he had been adequately baptized.
"See! Drunk on duty!" Brown bellowed, taking a swig from his almost empty bottle. "Now it's official!"
Connor took a delicate sip from the dregs of her bottle. "Hey, this isn't half bad for Yank booze."
Jim wiped his hands down his face, chuckling. "Now what's official?" he asked.
"You're getting married! It's our obligation to make sure you receive a proper send-off." Joel grinned before chugging the last half inch of wine left in his bottle. At his commanding officer's slight scowl about alcohol while on duty, he added, "Just a sip. You know none of us would drink on duty."
Martin held out his bottle. "I saved you a taste, Sheriff. Congratulations, sir."
Jim took the bottle and stood for a moment trying to control his emotions, looking down at the label before he raised his eyes and looked at each person in turn. Clearing his throat, he said, "Thank you. You've all been exemplary officers of the law and good friends. Carolyn and I appreciate all of your good wishes for our happiness." Raising the bottle, he toasted his friends with a nod and took a small taste.
Everyone laughed and clapped Jim on the back.
"Okay, people. Back to work," Jim ordered, tempering his words with a grin. "We're still protecting the county and I know you all have work to do." Jim pulled his wet shirt away from his broad chest. "And I have to shower," he added with a small grimace.
Laughing and high-fiving each other, amid the last few congratulatory wishes, the officers left their still-smiling sheriff to his ablutions.
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Grace Ellison stood with tears in her eyes. "Carolyn, you look absolutely stunning." She wiped the corner of her eye with a tissue.
Carolyn Plummer twirled in front of the full length mirror, critically examining the dress from all sides in the special mirror that afforded a full view. She was an attractive woman, medium height with shoulder-length brown hair and light brown eyes.
"Thank you, Mother." Carolyn smiled, pleased that Grace had insisted that she call her by the endearment since, in two days, she would be a daughter again. Her own parents' deaths many years ago gave her a momentary stab of grief, but another look in the mirror and the smile returned.
"I can't believe how lovely you look! The weight loss has enchanced your beauty, my dear," Grace crooned, fluffing the floor-length net veil with her fingers. She straightened a fold of the heavy white satin, enjoying the feel of the sequins under her fingers. Finally! The wedding she always wanted and had been denied all these years. She was happy beyond belief. Now she would get "her" wedding and a daughter to boot. The thought of grandchildren almost made her giddy. Her dreams were coming true. Sighing happily, Grace repeated, "You make such a charming bride!"
Carolyn blushed under her soon-to-be mother-in-law's pleased gaze. "Thank you -- for everything."
Grace nodded, fingering the beautiful material again. "Of course, Carolyn. For you and Jim -- anything."
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Critically examining himself in the mirror, Jim turned to straighten the band of satin running down the side of his black trousers. At a small sound to his left, he glanced up. "Oh my God!" Jim Ellison said. "No way!"
Steven Ellison stood before his brother, grinning devilishly. "Come on, Jim. It's the one!"
Jim shook his head vehemently. "It's -- blinding! Take it off! You are not wearing that -- thing to my wedding!" Walking around Steven and almost growling his displeasure, Jim asked, "Where's the Ralph Lauren I picked out?" He started to berate the helpful tailor who hovered nearby when Steven started laughing.
William Ellison walked out of the changing area and took one look at Steven before he burst out into peals of laughter.
Steven grinned, holding out his arms. He twirled around and asked, "Like it?"
The tuxedo was sparkling white in its glaring ugliness. The gold cummerbund shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the shop. The coat's gold buttons were polished to a high shine and the wide lapels made Steven look like he could launch himself into orbit. Down the front of the immaculate white shirt were rows and rows of ruffles. The edges were trimmed with gold thread, adding to the overall garish effect.
"It's 'The Presley'!" Steven chortled. "I thought I'd give Jim's wedding some real class."
"Yeah, right," Jim groused. "That's pure class if I've ever seen it."
"Lighten up, Jimmy," Steven said. "I'm just pulling your leg. Boy, are you uptight!"
Jim's stern face finally broke into a small smile. "You are an asshole, Stevie," he growled good-naturedly, smacking Steven's arm.
"That's me," Steven acknowledged happily. William shook his head at his sons' antics. Steven disappeared back into the dressing area, muttering under his breath about how some people didn't like to have any fun.
"How does this fit?" William asked.
Jim examined his father with a critical eye. He circled the man twice, tugging and adjusting until he finally stood in front of William, arms crossed, and said, "It looks presentable."
William shook his head in loving exasperation. "From you, that's a glowing appraisal."
Jim heard the hint of hurt in William's voice and he was immediately contrite. "Sorry, Dad," he said quietly, moving closer to his father. "You look very nice." Giving his father a smile, he confessed, "I didn't think I'd be this nervous! I've known Carolyn for most of my life and we've worked together for years, but my palms are sweating and my heart is pounding double time. Plus, with the awards' ceremony tonight on television, I'm a basket case," he finally admitted.
William smiled. Putting a hand on Jim's shoulder, he said, "In case things are even more hectic the next few days than they are now, and we don't get a chance to talk, I want you to know that you're a fine son and that I love you. You're directly responsible for the citation that Brian is receiving this evening. Not to mention how happy this wedding is making your mother. Jimmy, I'm very proud of you."
Jim blushed under his father's loving praise. "Thanks, Dad." Wondering what he had done to deserve such an idyllic life, his thoughts were interrupted when Steven emerged from the dressing room, this time attired in the proper expensive black tuxedo.
"That's more like it, bro," Jim said approvingly.
Steven held his arms wide. "Handsome, huh?" he said laughingly.
William and Jim laughed along with him.
"Come on, boys. Your mother will have our heads if we're late to the rehearsal dinner," William reminded his sons.
"Coming, Dad," Jim and Steven answered together before they turned on each other to stage a mock boxing contest.
The tuxedos were carefully hung and bagged, and the men headed toward the restaurant for the next step in Jim's trip down the aisle.
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The dinner was held at the nicest restaurant in town, The Town and Country Inn. The private room was decorated beautifully with Carolyn's chosen colors of white and blue, and reflected the decorations that would adorn the church and the reception hall for the festivities following the wedding on Sunday.
Flowers were in profusion. The tables were graced with vases full of gloriously colored flowers. White roses, mixed with pure white daffodils, Casablanca lilies, deep blue asters, cerulean cornflowers and small indigo forget-me-nots, along with dark green ferns and clusters of tiny white baby's breath, were gathered in vases of blue and white swirled Murano glass.
The ceiling was strung with many strands of tiny clear lights from which silken bunches of wisteria dripped in profusion, creating a fairy-land atmosphere. The tables were covered in white linen upon which sat sparkling white china, clear crystal glasses edged in deep blue and navy cloth napkins in rings of white porcelain, each hand painted with tiny blue flowers. Candles added that special glow to the room. Hundreds of small white tapers burned brightly from dainty candelabras of blue glass that were carefully positioned on the rectangular tables.
Grace Ellison's eyes filled with tears when she saw the beautiful room. The wedding of her dreams was finally taking place. She smiled with pride at her family -- William at her right and James at her left with Carolyn sitting at Jim's side. Steven sat next to his father and the remainder of the bridal party occupied the table of honor. Carolyn's best friend and maid-of-honor, Marcy Kowalski, sat beside Carolyn, and Marcy's six-year old daughter, Amber, sat next to her mother, a picture in a blue and white party dress. Little Amber was to be the flower girl for the doings on Sunday and she was eager to show off her prowess at sprinkling flower petals on the white carpet in front of the bride as she walked down the aisle.
After the delicious meal was eaten, toasts to the happy couple were made. Steven, Jim's best man, rose.
"I'd like to propose a toast to my big brother, Jimmy, and his wonderful bride, Carolyn." He smiled at the happy couple. Raising his glass, he said, "I wish you the best of luck. Long life and happy marriage. We love you both." He cleared his throat and his eyes twinkled when he concluded his toast with the solemn words, "And it's about damned time."
The guests burst into laughter. Jim rolled his eyes and shrugged while Carolyn smiled at the group of friends and family gathered to help celebrate the festive occasion. Jim took this as his cue to stand. He turned to his bride and took her hand. Holding aloft his glass, he said simply, "To us. I love you, Carolyn."
Everyone burst into applause when Jim and Carolyn sipped their champagne. Carolyn rose and was quickly surrounded by a group of women who expressed more congratulations and appreciative comments about the lovely decorations. On the sidelines for a few minutes, Jim finally found his courage to wade through the crowd of chattering women surrounding his fiancée and touched her elbow.
"Carolyn? The broadcast is in forty-five minutes."
Carolyn looked into Jim's clear blue eyes and sighed. He was so handsome! Delighted that the three year long engagement was almost over, she said, "I'm ready to go when you are, honey."
When the gathering noticed the time, the crowd quickly said good-byes and headed to their respective homes. Grace and William had planned an after-dinner party at their home to watch the ceremonies honoring Jim's protégé, Brian Rafe. Grace once again pressed Jim to attend.
"Jimmy, everybody will be there. It will be fun. Are you sure you and Carolyn won't come and watch from our home?" Grace asked.
Jim shook his head. "Mom, Carolyn and I have been running around like chickens with our heads cut off for weeks. This is the last evening we'll have to relax until after the wedding. We want to watch the ceremonies from the peace and quiet of my -- our own home. Thank you, though, for the offer." Giving his mother a quick hug, he added, "Wonderful dinner, Mother. I love you."
Grace patted Jim's arm, smiling and dabbing her eyes yet again. "We'll talk to you tomorrow then, son."
Jim nodded. "Dad?" He shook his father's hand. "We'll see you tomorrow."
After wishing the crowd a good evening, Carolyn and Jim made their escape to the solitude of Jim's two story, clapboard turn-of-the-century house on Cascade Range Avenue.
Jim had purchased the house shortly after he had graduated college. He spent many years restoring the historic property back to its original splendor while updating the interior to accommodate modern life. It was picture perfect, with nary a dust bunny, fallen leaf or finger print to be found on the entire premises. The yard was immaculate and the interior was worthy of Architectural Digest's Restored Home of the Year prize. Jim loved the house. Carolyn loved Jim, hence she loved the house also. They had decided she would move from her modest two-bedroom condo on Swan Lake Circle and into Jim's home the night of their wedding. No premarital sex for the happy couple. Another decision made jointly and happily adhered to by the loving pair.
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"Hurry up, Jim!" Carolyn cajoled from her place on the sofa. "We can do dishes later."
Jim sprinkled salt on the freshly popped popcorn and carried the bowl into the living room. "You know I can't relax when the kitchen is messy."
Carolyn chuckled, taking the bowl from Jim's outstretched hands. "You are such a fuss-budget. Come on, sit. Let's cuddle until the show starts."
Jim sat next to Carolyn and dipped his hand into the popcorn bowl, feeding a piece to her. "I love you," he said with a smile. At her answering smile, he sighed contentedly. Taking a handful of popcorn, he munched away.
They talked and nibbled until the broadcast started at eight on the dot. The screen darkened and the words danced across the blackened screen. "The National Organization of Police Officers' Twenty-Fifth Annual Awards Ceremony". The announcer droned on while the cameras panned the gathering. An attractive man of about thirty came onto the screen, holding a microphone. He looked directly into the camera and said,
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Blair Sandburg of WJAG television station, Cascade, Washington. Tonight we are proud to bring to you, live, the awards ceremonies for the National Organization of Police Officers.
"This evening we will honor the fine men and women in uniform who dedicate their lives to protect and serve. You will hear stories of heroism and bravery that go well above the call of duty. These officers risked their lives to save the lives of innocent people. Some of the awards will be post-humorous as two of the recipients died in the line of duty while performing their heroic acts.
"One of these outstanding officers will also be awarded the organizations' highest honor, The Golden Badge. This award is given to the officer who is chosen by the members of the National Organization of Police Officers for his bravery in the line of duty. The person is deemed to have far exceeded his oath of office while in the line of duty, and is considered to be the bravest of the brave.
"Let's speak to some of the nominees as they come down the red carpet." The newscaster turned and began interviewing men and women who passed by his station.
Jim sat enthralled by the vision on the screen. The man conducting the interviews was -- intriguing. For some strange reason, his voice captured Jim's attention and he focused on the deep resonance of it. The man, dressed formally in a well-cut tux, had long hair tied back neatly at the nape of his neck. The hair was abundant and curly, and when he turned his head to speak to whomever he was addressing, Jim could see that it was gathered in some sort of band adorned with a small silver disk. On the disk, he could see the relief of a wolf's head. His mouth went dry and then he noticed that the headache that had appeared during dinner was gone.
Jim stared at the screen. The ocean blue eyes that looked directly into the camera when addressing the audience seemed to be speaking to him personally. It was if he could feel the man's gaze touching him. He felt a light sweat break out over his forehead and the voice of the man encircled his brain. He felt himself falling -- falling, and he was powerless to stop it.
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"Jim! Jim!"
The gentle tapping on his face finally brought Jim from his fugue. He took in a shaky breath and huffed it out slowly.
"What -- happened?" Jim asked unsteadily.
"That's what I'd like to know. It was really strange, Jim. You were -- gone. You didn't answer my questions. You were barely breathing. Are you okay?" Carolyn asked, very concerned and more than a bit upset.
Jim nodded, wiping his forehead with a paper napkin. "Yeah, I'm fine." He took a sip of his cold iced tea. After a few minutes, he felt normal again.
"That was very weird, Jim. You sure you're okay?"
"Thanks, sweetheart. I'm fine." Jim patted her hand, but didn't have to time delve into the unsettling incident because the voice from the television announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen. It is my pleasure to introduce Captain Simon Banks of the Cascade Police Department and this year's President of the National Organization of Police Officers."
Applause greeted the imposing black man as he walked across the stage. He cleared his throat before he said, "Thank you. I'm a man of few words but tonight I feel everyone needs to know about the person to whom the officers of this great nation have chosen to receive this honor." He held up the small, tasteful wooden plaque with a gold badge affixed to its center. "I've had the honor of having this man under my command for the past eight years. He came to us from the small town of Clayton Falls, Washington, and he is one of the finest officers I've ever had the privilege with whom to serve.
"I'm sure all of you have heard the story of Detective Rafe's heroism, but it bears repeating again that during a bomb threat at the Cascade Community Hospice on March 20th of this year, Brian Rafe was directly responsible for saving the lives of at least a hundred patients and staff of that facility. If not for his quick response and fearless acts, I have no doubt that those people would have been killed in the subsequent explosion. With his authoritative actions and brilliant deductions from vague clues left by the perpetrator, he was able to find and disarm the device with only moments left before death and destruction would have occurred.
"This crime was perpetrated by a criminal whose hatred for gay members of our community drove him to attempt to kill dozens of innocent people. If not for the direct actions of this brave officer, many lives would have been lost.
"So without further ado, may I present the recipient of The Golden Badge award for 2003 to Detective Brian Rafe!"
Wild applause broke through the entire auditorium. Jim and Carolyn grinned happily. Brian Rafe had been Jim's protégé. Everything he knew about police work he learned from his two years at Jim Ellison's side. And now he was nationally famous, in large part because of Jim's efforts in training the young man the best he knew how.
Every set of eyes in Clayton Falls was clued to the television when Rafe made his way across the stage. It was a matter of pride that the hometown boy had made good. Almost everybody in town knew Brian Rafe personally. More than a few had gone to school with the attractive man, who started out as a county deputy before moving to Cascade to pursue his dreams of attending the police academy and becoming a detective. Following an exemplary career as a detective with Major Crime, he had come full circle, winning the highest award for bravery given in the United States of America.
Brian looked incredibly handsome in his Ralph Lauren tux, a fact that didn't escape Jim's intense observation. It was the same tux he had picked out for himself, his father and Steven for his own wedding. He smiled, pleased that he had exemplary taste in clothing.
Carolyn smiled and said, "Oh, I haven't seen Brian in years. He still is a handsome man, isn't he?"
"Are you trying to make me jealous because you two dated before he left for Cascade?" Jim asked.
Carolyn slapped his arm lightly. "No, silly. It was just a mild fling. We barely kissed and we only went out a few weeks, but he is dreamy, isn't he?" She sighed.
Jim rolled his eyes and then it hit him: he wasn't wasn't jealous, not in the least. He barely had time to wonder why that was when his focus was returned to the screen by Carolyn's fingers digging into his hand and by her school-girl giggle.
Waving to the jubilant crowd, Brian stepped up to the microphone. "Thank you, Captain Banks. Thank you to everyone who felt that I deserve this award. I'd also like to thank my friends and family who have been responsible for making me into the person I am today. Each and every one of you is precious to me.
"There is one person I'd like to thank specifically, though. He's the man who guided me on the path to law enforcement and the man who had the most confidence in me while I was a deputy in his department. This award belongs to him as much as it does to me. Sheriff James Ellison of Clayton County, Washington.
"Thanks to this fine man, when I saw those people at the hospice suffering from AIDS, my thoughts immediately went to my mentor, Sheriff Ellison. I knew then that I had to save each and every one of those people. Any one of them could have been my friend. He's the brave one because he's lived his life in a helpful and productive manner in a field that sometimes frowns upon its members being part of the homosexual community."
Holding the award up over his head, Rafe shouted, "Thank you all for this honor!" Then he left the stage amid the blinding flash of cameras.
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Jim sat in stunned silence. Carolyn was likewise carved in stone. She managed to regain her wits first and turned to her fiancée with tears in her eyes.
"Jim?" she whispered. When she received no response, she called again, "Jim?" She lightly touched his arm.
Jim finally turned a shocked face toward Carolyn. He remained silent, unable to speak.
"Is it true?" Carolyn asked. "Why did he say that? Is it? Jim, answer me!"
"No... " he stammered. "I don't... I'm not... I..." The words dried up and his mouth hung open.
"Jim, why would he say something like that if it weren't true?"
"Carolyn... You've known me for years -- most of our lives. Do I look like I'm -- gay?" he asked in an astonished voice.
Carolyn eyeballed Jim carefully, studying his face, then his broad shoulders before moving her eyes down his torso to his belt. At that leather line, she stopped and blushed.
Jim watched her eyes search his body. He sat up straighter and muttered, "Of all the ridiculous... stupid... I may sue. This is slander -- defamation. I'm calling my lawyer first thing in the morning."
Carolyn started to speak when the front door bell rang. Jim rose and crossed to the door. When he pulled it open, there stood William and Grace with stricken faces. That was when full realization dawned on Jim. The entire city, hell the entire world, was watching and had heard the pronouncement. He groaned.
"Is it true?" William asked, stepping back to allow Grace to precede him.
Grace walked into the house. "James, is there something you need to tell us?"
"No. No, Mother. Nothing. Of course it's not true. I'm getting married on Sunday! I am not gay!"
Grace stood before her son. "Your father and I love you. We'll support you through anything. If you want to pierce your nipples. If you cheat on your taxes. If you rob a convenience store for drug money, but know this, James Ellison..." Grace poked a finger into Jim's chest. "...no matter what happens, I need this wedding before I die!"
Carolyn stood beside her fiancée. "Mother, Dad, please. If Jim says it's a big mistake, then I believe him. He wouldn't lie to me -- to us. We all love him."
Jim nodded. "I wouldn't lie. I'm not gay!"
William said, "I'm your father, boy. You had better be telling the truth or it will break your mother's heart."
Jim spread his arms wide. "I am telling the truth. I am not gay! I'd know if I were gay or not, and I'm not. That's the honest truth."
"Okay, son. We believe you," Grace said, rising to her toes to give Jim a kiss on the cheek. "Thank heavens for that. Come on, William. We need to get home. I need a bath and a sleeping pill."
William took Grace's arm and, after Jim opened the front door, they walked down the sidewalk to their car. Grace turned back and asked, "Carolyn? Come along, my dear. We'll give you a ride home. It's getting late."
Smiling, Carolyn gave Jim a chaste goodnight kiss which he returned with equal virtuousness. "Good night, Jim."
"Good night, Carolyn. Mom and Dad, I'll talk to you tomorrow." He waved to the departing group from the recently painted front porch and shut the door quietly behind him.
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The alarm clock woke Jim at 6:30. He groaned, not at the early hour but at the song blaring from the small speaker -- it was one of those raucous tunes by, of all groups, The Village People. His fist came down on the offending appliance, sending it into silence.
Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over and muttered, "Please don't let this be prophetic!" Rising, Jim performed his morning duties in the precise manner in which he conducted them every morning. He showered, shaved and brushed his teeth. He dressed in his neatly-pressed uniform, strapped on his holster and made his bed. Checking to see that the bedroom was in a tidy condition and that the bathroom was likewise clean, he made his way downstairs into the kitchen.
The digital coffee maker had finished its duty minutes before Jim entered the kitchen. He prepared two slices of toast, whole wheat, spread on real butter and homemade blackberry jam that he had canned last fall, and sat down to eat while reading the sports section of the morning paper that he had retrieved from his front porch.
At precisely 7:30, he made his way to the sheriff's office housed in the County Building on Beaumont Avenue. Barring any emergencies or field expeditions, Jim followed this routine every morning and had for the past ten years since he had been elected sheriff of Clayton County. Discipline in Jim's life made him comfortable and secure. Chaos drove him nuts. Today would test his limits.
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Parking his police cruiser in its proper spot, Jim exited the vehicle and stopped. He heard the distinct murmur of voices -- lots of voices. He honed in on the sounds. At least twenty different voices assailed his ears, along with the click, clatter and slap of metal and plastic by many hands. Puzzled, Jim followed the sounds from around the back of the sheriff's office employee entrance toward the front. He came around the corner and froze.
Gathered in front of the building stood at least twenty news reporters. Cameramen and sound people mingled about. A string of vans and SUVs emblazoned with the names of television and radio stations lined the street for two blocks. Suddenly one of the reporters pointed at Jim and shouted, "There he is!"
The entire group moved en masse toward the unsuspecting sheriff, who stood still, puzzled at the reason for the gathering. Jim's eyes were wide when the cameras started flashing madly. The lights blinded him and he threw an arm over his eyes to shield them. The group surrounded Jim, shoving microphones into his face. Questions were thrown randomly and simultaneously.
"Sheriff Ellison, will this affect your duties to the county of Clayton and its citizens?"
"Are you still marrying your childhood sweetheart?"
"What do the people of Clayton Falls say about last night's revelation that you're gay?"
"Are you going to resign?"
"Do you plan on having children?"
"Do you promote safe sex in our schools?"
"Are you coming out officially now that everyone knows, Sheriff?"
Off to the side, one reporter stood alone, speaking into the camera that was held in front of him.
"This is Blair Sandburg of WJAG, Cascade, Washington. Welcome to Clayton Falls, Washington, a town under siege." Waving a hand at the melee behind him, he continued dramatically, "A cop in trouble -- a journey into middle America. When and where will it end? Or is this a new beginning?" Making a stop signal to his cameraman, he lowered the microphone, stood with his arms crossed and watched the sharks circle from afar. He had all the time in the world -- he was a patient man when he needed to be.
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When one of the reporters accidentally knocked into Jim's back, it brought him out of his stupor. He turned and silently pushed his way through the throng. The front door to the county building swung open.
"Sheriff!" Connor raced down the stairs and grabbed Jim's elbow. "No comment!" she shouted to the pushy group of reporters. "Now get back!" Leading Jim into the building, he finally found his wits and raced to his office, slamming the door closed behind him. Connor tapped quietly. "Sheriff?"
"Give me a few minutes, Deputy," Jim called from behind the closed door.
"Can I get you anything? Coffee?"
"Some ice water would be good."
"Yes, sir."
Jim wiped his hands down his face. What the hell had happened? He knew even as he asked himself the question. His life -- his career was careening out of control. He groaned and sat down heavily in his chair. He'd barely had a chance to catch his breath when the door flew open and County Commissioner Beatrice Edwards stormed into the office.
Her cold blue eyes snapped. Her stiff suit echoed her stiff back and her stiff hair. "Sheriff Ellison, this is most unsettling."
Jim rose. "Commissioner. What can I do for you? I have a full schedule..."
"These reporters! This isn't good for business, Sheriff. You know how much work it's taken the County Commissioners to bring Clayton County into the twenty-first century. Ten years ago this town was dying! Now, because of this -- incident, tourism will suffer. We have a large federal grant in the works for the new highway. Wal-Mart is considering building a super store on five acres of property at the edge of town! The children! Think about the children."
"Maybe I'll cause an earthquake or the dam will break," Jim muttered.
"Sarcasm is an unbecoming trait. You're not taking this seriously, Sheriff Ellison. You have an obligation to this community and to its citizens. Now I've arranged for a press conference in fifteen minutes on the front steps of the courthouse. You will attend, of course, and dispute this vile rumor."
"Yes, ma'am." Jim sighed and cringed when the door slammed shut behind the quick exit of the Commissioner.
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"What do you think, Connor? You're a woman," Deputy Martin asked the group of deputies clustered around the coffee maker.
Connor scowled. "What does that have to do with anything? Women have better gaydar or what?"
"Gaydar?" Brown asked. "Is that contagious?"
Connor barked in laughter. Taggart rolled his eyes. "Come on, people. Some of us have known Jim for ten years or more! Let's act like police officers and study the evidence."
"Good idea, mate," Connor said. "Have at it."
"Okay. He's getting married tomorrow. He wouldn't be getting married if he were gay," Martin said.
Brown shook his head, "But don't forget, they've been engaged three years. Have you ever heard of anybody who's been engaged for that long?"
"Yeah, and he's very neat. He's always clean and his clothes are pressed. He washes his hands after using the toilet. I've seen it with my own eyes," Martin offered. "Only somebody who's gay would be so -- perfect."
"He does have great skin and nice teeth," Connor mused. Eying her fellow cohorts, she said, "You guys sure don't."
Brown chewed on a fingernail. "He's really smart. I asked for a word in last week's crossword puzzle and he knew it right off. Didn't even have to think about it."
"Guys, guys, this doesn't prove the sheriff's gay," Taggart said firmly. "He's just happier with rules and regulations."
"What about his house?" Brown offered. "It's perfect."
"Yes, it is. I didn't think about that. And he does clean it himself." Connor looked thoughtful. "I understand a bloke doing the yard work, but scrubbing those windows until they shine? It is kind of suspicious."
Martin held up his hands. "But the main question is: does it really matter?"
Taggart answered first. "Not to me. He's still a great guy and a good sheriff."
"I couldn't care less," Brown added. "He saved my butt more than once."
Connor shrugged. "I don't care who he fancies. He's an honest man and he's been kind to me being a newcomer in a new country and all."
Taggart looked at Martin. "Tim?"
"I don't know. It's kind of -- icky."
"What?" Brown asked.
"That he likes dick."
Brown looked startled. "Oh? Dick who?"
Taggart rolled his eyes. "What does that have to do with the man and how he handles himself? Does it change him in any way? Isn't he the same guy today that he was yesterday or last week? Besides, what does his private life have to do with us. And I've never seen him date a guy, anyway. He's only ever dated Miss Plummer."
Martin nodded. "You've got a point, Taggart. I can't say I'm happy about the idea, but in the long run, it doesn't affect his job or how he treats people. I can honestly say that, so I'm in."
"Good," Taggart said with a smile. "So this is a vote of support for Sheriff Ellison?"
Four voices agreed and Taggart was pressed into being their spokesman to tell Ellison the good news.
-----------------------------------------------------
It had been a trying day. Jim Ellison made his way down the street and over two blocks to Bailey's Bar and Grill. He walked quickly through the cool evening, taking deep breaths of fresh air and allowing the night to clear his head. Sighing, he pushed open the door to the darkened bar and found a solitary seat at one of the booths lining one wall. After ordering a New Castle Brown ale and a sirloin burger, rare, with everything, he sat back sipping the cool, tart brew.
He had barely taken a bite of his burger when footsteps echoed in his head. He raised his eyes and stared into eerily familiar blue eyes.
"Hello!" said the cheery voice. A body followed the voice, sliding into the empty seat opposite Jim. "I'm Blair Sandburg!"
"Do you have to talk so loud?" Jim growled. "Who asked you to sit down!? I'm trying to have my dinner here! You sharks have already had your pound of flesh. Go away."
"Oh, hey, man. Whoa. Slow down." He called over to the bartender, "Killian's Red, please!"
"Don't you people have any decency? I'm tired. I'm hungry. I want to be alone!" Jim rubbed his throbbing head.
"Come on, Sheriff. Take it easy," intoned the soothing voice.
Before Jim could react, Blair had slipped from his seat and slid in beside Jim. With his hip, he shoved Jim lightly. "Move over, man."
Jim automatically gave a few inches of ground but when Blair reached reached toward his head, he batted the hand away. "Don't touch me!"
With ocean blue eyes shining, Blair laughed melodically. "Come on, tough guy. You have a headache. I can make it go away."
"Really?" Jim asked before eyeing Blair suspiciously. "No. Forget it, Sandburg. Take a hike."
Grinning, Blair took a swig of the beer that had been placed before him. "Ah. I love a cold beer." He rubbed his fingers on the condensation and turned halfway in the seat. "May I?" Blair tried again, holding up his hand and giving Jim an inviting smile.
Jim stared into the warm depths and shivered. He felt himself scoot closer to Blair until their thighs were touching. He closed his eyes and inclined his head. "What are you doing?" his subconscious mind screamed, but for once he ignored the voice.
Suddenly, cool fingers rubbed his temples. A soothing voice spoke, the words unimportant. Jim felt himself slipping into a peaceful place. His head stopped throbbing. His breathing became slow and easy. His body relaxed. His crotch stirred...
Ellison's eyes flew open. Without warning, he pushed Blair from the bench until the man was sitting on the floor with a surprised expression on his face. Jim bolted from the booth and out the front door without another word.
Chuckling at the sheriff's reaction to his touch, and pleased with the look he had seen on Jim's face, Blair rose and brushed off the seat of his slacks.
"Hey, buddy? You okay?" the bartender asked.
"Yeah. I'm good. How much is the damage?" Blair waved at the table and Jim's barely touched food.
"Ten bucks will cover it."
Tossing the cash on the table, Blair raced out after Jim.
"Yo! Ellison!" Blair called, trotting down the street when he saw the ramrod stiff back retreating at a brisk pace. He saw the man hesitate for barely a moment before forging ahead. Blair hurried his pace until he was beside the man. Then he passed him and turned, walking backwards. "How's the headache?" he asked pleasantly.
"Get lost."
"It's bad, huh?"
"Gone."
"You want me gone?"
"No, idiot. The headache's gone." Jim stopped and glared. "What did you do to me?"
"Who? Me?" Blair asked innocently, eyes wide.
Jim gulped at the man's demeanor. He felt the faint beginning of a stirring in his blood and again, he panicked. "Please, Sandburg," he begged, trying for compassion since bullying hadn't worked. "Please go home and leave me alone."
"Come on, man. Give me a break! This is the story of the century!"
"You're way out of line. Nobody cares about a small-town sheriff in a two bit town buried in the Cascade Mountains. It's old news."
"You are so wrong! It has the makings of a movie of the week! Angst! Sex! Small town prejudice runs rampant! In the closet one day, out the next! Hell, man, those other reporters gave you one day. I care!" Blair threw out his arms wide. "I'm doing a whole week!" he chortled gleefully, extremely pleased with his revelation. "I even have a title. How does this sound? 'Straight Out Into the Light - One Man's Story'."
Jim looked utterly shocked. "What!" he cried. "You can't do this to me!" Jim skirted around Blair and walked briskly away. "I could arrest you!" he said over his shoulder.
"For what? Caring about you? Making you famous? Helping you to face the truth?"
Jim stopped. "What?"
"Truth, man, truth. You're a man of principle. You know what truth is." Blair crossed his arms, suddenly serious.
Jim shook his head in exasperation. "What makes you think you know anything about me?"
Blair remained silent, his eyes taking in the man before him. The strong, broad shoulders. The chiseled face. The muscular legs. He felt his own body react to Jim's presence, but something else tickled his brain. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He concentrated, going through the many tidbits of information he had filed in his brain about one James Ellison.
Jim fidgeted under Blair's solemn gaze. He tipped his chin and growled, "I am not gay."
Shrugging, Blair didn't respond for a long minute, then he said, "Sure. Whatever."
Before Blair could formulate another thought, something caught Jim's attention. He watched, entranced, while the man's eyes became distracted, his body tensed, his head cocked and to Blair's observant eyes, he seemed to be listening to something that nobody else could hear. Blair held his breath, the thought that he had been searching for minutes before hit home. Hyperactive senses? Could it possibly be after all this time?
It had been years since he had even thought about his old dissertation subject. Hell, it had been four years since he had left school and began his career as an investigative journalist, using his anthropological skills to garner stories that were slowly but surely gaining him a reputation for an excellent journalist. Only last week he had been offered a promotion at WJAG when they caught wind that a television station from LA was feeling out Blair's desires to move up to their larger market.
Blair focused back on the sheriff as the man turned and raced off into the night. He took off after the him, but by the time he reached the sheriff's office, the cruiser flew out of the parking lot, lights flashing and sirens screaming, with Jim behind the wheel. Blair knew then that he must have "heard" something that alerted him to danger and responded. Turning slowly, Blair walked back to his hotel room to make notes and to digest this important information. Ellison was gay, he knew, but more importantly, he was a Sentinel. This was a double bonus and he was pleased beyond measure. He had found his Holy Grail -- and an award-winning story.
-----------------------------------------------------
"This is Blair Sandburg for WJAG television, Cascade, Washington. Welcome to day two of our exclusive coverage of Sheriff James Ellison of Clayton County, Washington. This is an in-depth study into the life of a simple man. Today we will be speaking to the important people in Sheriff Ellison's life and asking the all-important questions.
"Here's our first person now." Blair held out the microphone. "You're Sam Perkins, Sheriff Ellison's barber?"
The older, bald man puffed out his round chest. "I'm Sheriff Ellison's hairdresser," he said proudly. "He's a fine man. I've known him all his life."
"But is he gay?" asked Blair.
"He has an appointment for this afternoon at three for a cut, shampoo and style. The wedding is scheduled for tomorrow. That should tell you what you need to know."
"Okay! Thank you, Mr. Perkins." The cameraman followed Blair as he walked a few steps down the block. He waved at a pedestrian who stopped. "Hello! I'm Blair Sandburg for WJAG television. You're Sheriff Ellison's tailor?"
"Yes. I'm Phil Manetti. I've been dressing Sheriff Ellison for many years." The short, thin, dark-haired man grinned. "He has his uniforms custom made, you know. A fine dresser is our sheriff."
"Thank you, Mr. Manetti, but the big question is... Is he getting married tomorrow?"
Manetti rubbed his chin. "Well, he picked up the tuxes yesterday so I say yes." He grinned approvingly to the camera.
"Thank you! Have a good day, sir." Blair smiled at the camera. "We have one more of Sheriff Ellison's citizens who would like to offer an opinion." Another walk down the block and Blair stopped beside a tallish, long-haired woman. "Good day, Ms. Amelia Parker! You're Sheriff Ellison's mail carrier, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, but I can't reveal the contents of his mail. It's against federal law. You could be arrested for tampering with the mail."
Blair grinned. "Oh, no, ma'am. I'm not interested in the contents of the sheriff's mail. I have a much more important question for you. Is Sheriff Ellison gay?"
The woman considered for a moment before she said, "Well, he is very neat and I did see him put his napkin on his lap and use it properly one evening when he was having dinner at The Town and Country Inn. So I say, yes, he's gay."
"Thank you, Ms. Parker!" Blair turned away from the woman, took a couple of paces and stopped on the steps of the county courthouse, the tall columns imposing in the background. "There you have it. The citizens of Clayton Falls have spoken. Tomorrow is day three of our week-long coverage of this exciting story. The big question for tomorrow is will Sheriff Ellison marry his long-time sweetheart, Carolyn Plummer, after a three-year courtship? Tune in tomorrow morning live at 9 a.m. from the Clayton Community Church on Lakeview Lane for more of this fascinating look into American life!"
-----------------------------------------------------
Jim walked into the Commissioner's office and removed his hat. "Good afternoon, Ellie," he said pleasantly to the Commissioner's secretary.
"Sheriff Ellison, go right in. She's waiting." She waved toward the door marked 'private'.
"Thanks." Jim walked confidently to the door and opened it. Once inside he continued his demeanor and walked over to the Commissioner's ostentatious desk, waiting patiently.
"Sit down, Sheriff." The Commissioner barely looked up, her disapproval with the man obvious.
"Thank you." Jim sat down on the edge of the chair and waited, determined to remain calm and in control. He prided himself on his ability to control his emotions.
"So," Commissioner Edwards said, lacing her fingers together on the top of her desk, "How are things going with you?"
"I'm fine. Thank you."
"Good. The wedding is still on?"
"Of course."
"Do you enjoy your job?
"Why do you ask?"
"I like to make sure our public servants are happy with their positions. It's part of my job as Commissioner. Are you, Sheriff?"
"I love my job. I love Clayton Falls. It's my honor to serve its citizens."
"Good. Good. So you would hate to lose this job, Sheriff?"
"Are you threatening me?"
"Oh heavens, no! I'm just reminding you of the contract you signed when you were duly elected as sheriff of our county and this town." Commissioner Edwards pulled out a small sheaf of papers. "Paragraph 23c clearly states that your position of authority puts you under constant scrutiny from the public and the media. Transgressions that do occur could cause embarrassment for the city and its citizens who employ you, especially if you're convicted of a crime or engage in acts of 'moral turpitude'. That means..."
"I'm well aware of what that means, Commissioner. I haven't been convicted of any crimes nor have I engaged in any such acts."
Commissioner Edwards held up her hand. "Of course. Nobody's accusing you of any misconduct, Sheriff. I just wanted to be quite clear that there is going to be a wedding tomorrow. I am only asking for your word that it will commence as scheduled."
Jim rose. "Are you saying that if I don't get married, you'll have me fired?"
"I'm saying plainly that I wish for your reassurances that you will be married tomorrow to Miss Plummer. It's that simple. The rest is up for -- interpretation." She gave Jim an ingratiating smile that sent Jim's nerves tingling. She looked like a stalking snake about to swallow its prey.
"Good day, Madam."
As Jim walked from the room, Commissioner Edwards called, "The county commissioners back me on this, Sheriff. Oh, and please extend our heartfelt best wishes to Miss Plummer."
Successfully controlling his anger, Jim carefully closed the door on his way out.
"I need advice," Jim said quietly to the priest behind the partition. What he was doing in a Catholic church, he had no idea, but he needed help. He leaned closer to the screen. "It's not for me. It's for -- a friend."
"Ah," said the middle-aged priest. "How good of you to seek counsel for a friend. How may I help this -- friend?"
"He's getting married tomorrow but something -- unsettling has happened."
"And what is this unsettling thing, my son?"
"He's been accused of something -- untrue."
"We are often hurt by untruths. It is a shame."
"Yes. Yes. That's true."
"You must tell me the untruth if I am to guide you -- er, your friend, my son."
"I'm -- he's not Catholic."
"It is of no matter. Good advice is non-denominational."
"Oh, okay. Well, he's been accused of..." Jim put his hand over his mouth and muttered.
"What? I'm sorry, my son, but I couldn't hear you. Could you repeat it?"
"Of being..." Again he whispered unintelligibly.
"Son, please. Speak plainly if you wish for me to be of assistance!" said the exasperated man. "No one will know of our conversation. Trust me."
Jim sighed. "He's been accused of being gay!" he said loudly before cringing at the echo of his own words.
"What? Oh my. Oh my. And you say you're -- he's getting married in the morning?"
"Yes!"
"How long has he been engaged?"
"Three years."
"Three years? Such a long time. But of course, he and his betrothed have had -- relations."
"No!"
"No? Oh my. Oh my. Even I -- before I took the cloth -- Well, yes. I see. Then he must immediately consummate the... relationship! This will prove to your friend and his fiancée that he is indeed, not... ah, of this persuasion."
"Before the wedding? But I thought abstinence was a virtue! Before the wedding?" he echoed again.
"It is, my son, it is, but in these circumstances, you -- your friend must know the truth. He cannot marry this woman not knowing what he is. Tell me, has this friend had relations with a woman before?"
"No! He respects women. He waited until the time was right. When he's married, he'll have -- sex. Until then, it wasn't -- right."
Sighing, the priest said, "Then my advice stands. He must go to her and do it with her. Immediately. Now go in peace, my son. And best wishes to you and your bride."
"Thank you, Father." Jim slipped from the quiet church and made a direct line to Carolyn's house. He banged on the door and when she answered, he grabbed her arms and pressed her against the wall, kissing her forcefully.
Moving his hands to either side of her face, he held her and kissed her again and again, tugging at her t-shirt.
"Jim." Carolyn tried to push him back, but his bulk kept her pinned. "Jim!" She pushed again and he backed up.
"Carolyn! Let's make love. Right now!"
"Now? But we decided to wait until our wedding night. Don't you remember? We want it to be special. What is wrong with you?"
"Please, Carolyn. I want you right now." Again Jim kissed her lustfully. Carolyn started to giggle and pushed him back.
"It's only until tomorrow night, Jimmy. You'd think you were... Jim, what's wrong?" Carolyn ran a hand through her hair. "You want to make love right now to prove to yourself that you're not gay? Is that it? Did you lie to me?"
"No, my sweet. No! I do love you and I'm not gay! Honest!" Jim straightened his shirt and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "You're right. Our wedding night should be special." Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. "Thank you. You're a genius." He dashed from the house and leapt into the patrol car, peeled out and disappeared, leaving a stunned Carolyn standing in the open doorway.
-----------------------------------------------------
Jim drove home and raced into the house. He donned jogging clothes and sneakers, and dashed out of the house. Exercise is what he needed, and a lot of it. He warmed up the first half mile and then started to jog, setting a grueling pace. He wiped the sweat running down his face with the towel wrapped around his neck and ran. Four miles later, he slowed slightly to wipe the sweat blinding him. He brought the towel across his face, not realizing that he was jogging right into the path of an oncoming car.
Tires squealed on the pavement and the car came to an abrupt halt amid shrieking tires and a shouting driver. The bumper tapped Jim hard enough to send him over backwards and he lay sprawled on the street, stunned.
"Jim!" Blair leapt from the driver's seat and raced to the front of the car. "Oh my God! Jim, are you okay?"
Blair's hands skimmed the fallen sheriff carefully. When Jim groaned, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"What happened?" Jim asked, struggling to sit up.
"You ran right in front of my car! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you okay? I'll call 911."
"No, I'm fine." Jim sat up and shook his head. "You didn't really hit me. Not hard anyway. I was taken by surprise more than anything. Give me a hand."
"Sure, man. Come on." Blair helped his companion to his feet." Sit down for a sec." Blair led Jim around to the passenger's side of his car and opened the door, where Jim sat to catch his breath. "Here. Bottled water. Take a sip." Pulling a bottle from the small cooler on the floor, he handed it to Jim after snapping the top open.
Jim took a deep drink before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Thanks, Sandburg. I'm fine now." Jim rose to leave.
"You sure you're okay?" Blair asked with concern.
Jim turned on the man and growled, "No! I'm not okay! I want my damned life back! Do you know what you've done? I am not a sound bite! I'm a living, breathing human being. Oh, hell. What would you know? You wouldn't understand!"
"Jim, but I do understand," Blair said softly with his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I'm gay too, so I totally understand. I'm in your corner, man. You have to believe that."
Jim shook off the comforting hand. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not gay!" he shouted yet again.
"Jim, listen. It's too hard hiding from the people you love, from your friends. Take my advice. Come out and do it before this wedding tomorrow. It's not right marrying a woman when you know you're gay. Lying isn't the way to live your life, man. You know what happened when I came out? My mother cried for maybe one minute. My boss said who cares and asked me for the next big story. My friends all laughed and told me they already knew I was gay. I wasn't fooling anybody but myself."
"You are so full of it. You have no idea what I need!"
"Sure I do." Blair moved closer and before Jim could step back, he wrapped his hands around Jim's neck and dragged him down for a hard, long and wet kiss.
Jim's arms fluttered like a big, awkward bird trying to take wing. His feet danced in place and his mouth returned the kiss with enthusiasm for a few seconds before he finally realized what he was doing. He pushed Blair back and wiped his mouth.
"What the fuck was that?" he shouted.
"That was fantastic!" Blair offered. "May I have another?"
"No! Get away from me." Jim said the words but his feet took him another step closer to Blair. He reached out his hands. Blair stood very still, waiting for Jim to make his move, when a car horn blared, making both men jump.
Blair grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. Jim jumped away from Blair and almost fainted when he saw his mother and father.
"Yoohoo! Jimmy! We're going to the hall to help with the final decorations. Do you need a lift?"
"No, Mom. I'm good. Hi, Dad!" Jim waved, glad that his parents couldn't see him blush from this far away. "I'll catch up with you later. I want to finish my run."
"Okay, son," his father called. "Who's your friend?"
"William, that's one of the nice young men from the television station," Grace said.
Jim stuttered, "We met at the homosection. The intersexual. The corner!"
Laughing, Blair said, "Yes, ma'am. I'm Blair Sandburg. Good day to you."
"You're coming to the wedding tomorrow aren't you, Mr. Sandburg?" Grace invited.
Jim shook his head at Blair in warning, but Blair ignored him. "I'd love to come! Thank you!"
"We'll see you boys later then," William said, driving away.
"Bye!" Grace called, waving out the open window.
Jim and Blair waved in return. When the car was out of sight, Jim turned on Blair. "You are not coming to my wedding tomorrow."
"Hey, man, sure I am. I'm invited. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Jim scowled while he brushed the dirt from his sweats and, without another word, turned and jogged away from the irritating man.
"See you tomorrow -- Jimmy!"
"Fuck you, Sandburg," Jim muttered.
"I heard that! Was that an invitation?"
Jim ignored Blair and ran away as fast as he could.
-----------------------------------------------------
Jim ran home faster than he should have. He didn't cool down properly and he took a too-cold shower. By the time he was dressed, his head ached. He stopped by the kitchen long enough to drink some Gatorade to restore his fluids. After washing the glass, drying it and putting it away, he opened the hall closet and rummaged behind several boxes. Finding a shoe box marked "tax receipts", he removed the lid and dropped it to the floor. Taking out the cassette tape box, he studied the words printed on the case -- "Exploring Your Masculinity".
Jim ripped into the never-opened package and pulled the first tape from its plastic prison. Popping it into the player, he shook his arms, rubbed his hands together and readied himself.
An annoyingly loud male voice came from the speakers.
"Are you ready to explore your masculinity? Are you willing to find out the truth? Are you a sissy boy?"
"No!" Jim yelled at the empty room, automatically answering the demanding voice.
"So let's prove it. How are you dressed? Are you wearing manly clothing? Torn jeans and flannel shirt?"
Jim looked down at his neat button-down shirt and pressed jeans. "I'm dressed properly."
"Is your shirt tucked in? Real men don't tuck! Pull it out! Better yet, pull out just one side."
Jim grimaced and allowed half of his shirt to hang loose. "This is so messy," he groused.
"Get a grip, pansy man! Adjust yourself!"
Jim carefully touched his crotch, barely skimming the surface.
"Grab 'em!"
Jim sighed and grabbed.
"Good job! Now repeat after me -- Yo!"
"Yo!"
"How's it hangin'?"
"How's it hanging?"
"No! How's it hangin'? Do it with gusto!"
"How's it hangin'?" Jim said manfully.
"Hot damn!"
"This is ridiculous!"
"Say it, sissy boy!"
"Screw you!"
"You want to do this or not? You're the one with identity issues, not me! So?"
"Yes, but..."
"No buts! Now. Look around you! Do you live in a manly house? What about those CDs? Any show tunes? Real men listen to Rap, Heavy Metal and Country! Throw away that sissy music! No Donna Summer! No Cher! Go into the bathroom and put up that toilet seat! Do it now! Real men don't put down the toilet seat!"
"That's stupid."
"Don't argue with me!"
Jim grudgingly went over to the downstairs bathroom and flipped up the closed lid. "Happy?"
"Good work. Now go to your bedroom and throw your dirty clothes on the floor! Real men don't use hampers! Do it, pansy man! Throw those skivvies on the floor! And no more ironing!"
Jim groaned. "This is so stupid. Real men don't make a mess! Only slobs make a mess."
"Okay, stud. Now the kitchen. Open the fridge and pull out a beer. No, not that sissy wine, a beer! A manly drink!"
Jim put the wine back and found a can of Coors Light. He popped the top, held his glass and waited.
"Take a swig right from the can! A big one! Only pansies use a glass! Guzzle it. Let it drip down your chin!"
Jim carefully took a sip and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"No. No. No! Guzzle! And no chin wiping!"
Jim obliged. He grimaced when the cold liquid ran down his face and dripped onto his clean shirt.
"Now splash some on the kitchen table. Smear it around. Let it dry. No wiping!"
Jim gingerly dribbled a few drops onto his clean kitchen table, but it no sooner landed than he was wiping up the drops with a wash cloth.
"I said no cleaning! You're failing this test, macho man. Now for the next test..."
Jim hit the 'off' button. "No more tests! I am not gay!" Jim shouted at the empty room before sighing and falling onto the sofa with a deep groan, knowing he had truly failed.
------------------------------------------------------
Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. The sun shone radiantly and so did Carolyn Plummer.
"I'm so nervous!" Carolyn said, fidgeting with the veil.
"You look absolutely beautiful, my dear," Grace crooned. "I'm a very lucky woman today. You'll make James a wonderful wife and you know how I've longed for a daughter."
"Thank you, Mother," Carolyn said softly, leaning to kiss Grace's cheek. "You're the mother I've dreamed of having since my own mother died."
"That's sweet of you to say. Are you ready?"
The two women stood side by side looking into the mirror. Grace's eyes filled with tears as did Carolyn's, who nodded. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'm ready. Let's do it."
Grace laughed. She went to take her seat and cue the organ player.
----------------------------------------------------
"Darn it, anyway! What is wrong with this thing?" Jim nervously pulled the ends of his bow tie and started to retie it for the tenth time.
"Jimmy, it's fine. Come on. Your mother's in her seat and you need to get out there. It's time," said William. "You look very nice, son, and Carolyn is a wonderful girl. You're a lucky man and I only hope you're half as happy as your mother and I have been these past forty-five years."
"Thanks, Dad."
William clapped Jim on the back and left to take his seat.
"Come on, Stevie. It's show time." Jim grabbed Steven's sleeve and tugged him to the doorway. He took a deep breath and pulled it open, crossed the hallway, passed through the sacristy and out into the sanctuary to take his place at the left side of the altar with Steven to his left. He nodded to the minister who stood waiting, prayer book in hand, wearing his best white vestments for the ceremony. Their eyes met when Jim entered the church and, to Jim, he seemed to breath a sigh of relief when he saw him take his place in front of the altar. Jim briefly wondered why the man seemed a bit nervous, but he shrugged off the thought as silly.
The organ played softly and Jim enjoyed the music for a moment before he realized that it was a tune from Cher's Greatest Hits. Groaning inwardly, he mused that only a gay man would recognize that music. He fidgeted with his collar briefly before berating himself once again about his thoughts and forced himself to stand still.
The organ continued to play when the maid-of-honor came into view at the back of the church and walked up the aisle, smiling at friends and family as she made her way to stand to the right of the altar. When the organ started the traditional wedding march, Jim's gaze went to the back of the church and the person his eyes singled out was Blair Sandburg, who leaned against the back wall. Jim felt his heart surge and his blood tingle. It was as if his body had searched for the man. He closed his eyes and actually shivered when he saw how handsome Blair looked in his black tux. Savagely he dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands and forced his eyes to open. He saw Blair's intent, knowing gaze and he felt himself blushing. Blair's grin showed that even from the back of the room, he saw Jim's reaction to his presence. Then the man had the audacity to raise his hand and waggle his fingers at Jim, grinning widely all the while.
Jim dragged his eyes away from Blair's smiling face and forced himself to take in the vision that was his bride, Carolyn. She stood in the archway for a few moments, smiling radiantly. She was absolutely glowing in the designer gown and long veil that Jim had helped pick out, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers -- the same type of blossoms that had graced the tables at the rehearsal dinner.
Jim's nose started to itch at the profusion of flowers that adorned the altar and that were fastened in small bunches to the end of each pew. The flower girl tossed handfuls of petals from the small basket that she carried onto the sparkling white cloth that covered the main aisle of the church and upon which Carolyn now walked sedately. She smiled at the crowd gathered to witness the exchange of vows and didn't notice that Jim's eyes started to water and that he struggled to stifle a sneeze.
By the time Carolyn reached her place at Jim's side, he had managed to get his senses back under control and he smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. She blushed and smiled lovingly at Jim. They stood side by side while the minister started his homily.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together to join James and Carolyn in holy matrimony." The minister smiled the bride and groom. "If there is any person here knowing just cause why this man and this woman may not be lawfully joined together, let this person speak now, or else forever hold their peace."
The minister carefully observed the crowd while Grace turned in her seat and glared at the congregation. There was a brief moment of uneasiness but no one dared speak. Satisfied, the minister nodded happily and continued.
"Marriage is a wonderful institution built on the foundation of complete honesty, faith, trust and love between a man and a woman. It is not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly, but reverently, advisedly and soberly. With these edicts in mind, the vows will now be exchanged.
"Carolyn, do you take James for your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"
Carolyn looked into Jim's eyes and said, "I do."
The minister smiled. "James, do you take Carolyn for your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"
Jim looked deeply into Carolyn's eyes and froze. His throat closed up tightly and he had trouble breathing. He saw her eyes widen and her lower lip start to quiver the longer he remained silent. He felt her squeeze his fingers and he finally opened his mouth. He thought he said the correct thing, thought he said "I do" but what actually tumbled out were the words "I'm gay".
"What?" Carolyn blurted out, eyes wide and tear-filled.
"I'm gay," Jim repeated.
The entire room was dead silent. Grace stood and cleared her throat. "He's just nervous," she told the crowd. "I'm sure he meant to say, 'I do'."
James turned to his mother and sighed. "No, that's not what I meant to say." Jim took a step toward the congregation and cleared his throat. "Mother. Dad. I'm gay."
William sat in stunned silence while Grace pulled a handkerchief and started to cry softly. Carolyn angrily looked at Jim while the tears fell and, without saying a word, gathered up her skirt in her arm and ran from the room.
"Carolyn, wait!" Jim called, chasing after her.
Carolyn raced into the room that she had used previously as a dressing room and paced quickly, the long dress trailing forlornly after her. Jim entered and sat quietly on the small sofa, hands on his knees and waited.
Finally, after a long minute, Carolyn unleashed her anger. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me!? I spent the past three years making myself beautiful for you! I dieted. I exercised. I learned to scrub the bathroom with a toothbrush for you! What do I get for all of my troubles? I get you stomping on my self-esteem that I tried so hard to bolster! I thought we'd have a wonderful life! That we'd enjoy art and music and travel. You're a smart man and I thought you'd show me the world!" Carolyn sighed deeply and said quietly, "Am I that ugly that you don't want to marry me?"
"No!" Jim practically shouted. "You're not ugly at all." He rose and took a step toward Carolyn, but her narrowed eyes and toothy grimace stopped him in his tracks. "I think you're a beautiful woman. If I were to marry, I'd want to marry you! I do love you, Carolyn, I really do, but it's just that I'm -- gay."
Carolyn eyes narrowed and she stalked toward Jim, who backed up until he hit the sofa. He sat with a thump. Carolyn stood over him, hands on hips. "Oh, and this is news to you? You don't think you could have, oh I don't know, told me maybe -- two years ago instead of on our wedding day!" she shouted loudly.
Jim rose, cringing. He knew that everybody in the church could hear but in all honesty, he deserved whatever Carolyn meted out to him. "I know you hate me. I'm a horrible person, but Carolyn, you have to believe me, I didn't face the truth until today, just now, when the minister said the words -- when he said honesty and faith and trust, I couldn't lie to you. I couldn't lie to myself any longer."
"Are you sure?" Carolyn asked plaintively. "Are you sure you're -- gay?"
Jim sighed. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Oh my God!" she screamed, gathered up her dress and fled from the room in a rage, tears streaming down her face. Stunned, it took a few moments for Jim to react. He raced after her, but she had already fled out the front door and climbed into the car that had been decorated with flowers, tin cans and a sign on the rear that said, "Just Married!" With squealing tires, Carolyn pulled away.
"Carolyn, wait! We need to talk!" Jim called.
Carolyn flipped her middle finger out the window while she careened away from the church with the end of her veil still trailing out of the car's door.
"Great, just great," Jim said, rubbing his aching head. He sneezed three times in quick succession.
"Bless you," said the now-familiar voice of his tormentor.
Jim wiped his watering eyes and spun on his heel. He advanced menacingly toward Blair. "Are you happy now?" he shouted, arms spread wide. "Look what you've done!"
"Me? Hell, yes. I'm ecstatic! That was fantastic! Wonderful! Do you realize what you just did? You came out at your wedding! Hooray!" Blair did a happy little dance on the lawn, spinning around and bouncing from one foot to the other.
"You are an idiot!" Jim shouted. He turned to stalk away and that's when he saw the cameraman. "Are you taping this?" he growled.
"Of course," Blair answered happily. "This is day three. A whole week, remember?"
"Oh, right. Of course. My life is doing down the fucking drain and you're taping it! Wonderful. Can I have a copy? I'll have something to watch when I'm sitting at home -- fired from my job!" Jim shouted directly into the camera lens.
Blair grinned. "This is great stuff. One of these days, you'll thank me for this, Jim. You'll see."
"Thank you? Thank you!? You are an asshole!"
"Yeah, but I'm your asshole." Blair discreetly waved off the cameraman, who nodded, turned off his camera, and left Blair to his own devices.
"My... Oh good God." Jim stalked off with Blair at his heels.
"Think about it, man. You felt it when I kissed you. I felt it too. It was awesome!"
"Get lost, Sandburg."
"So you admit it."
"I'm not admitting a damned thing." Jim walked so quickly that Blair had to run to keep up with him.
"We could experiment," Blair offered.
"I'm not a lab rat!"
"It could be fun."
"Humph," Jim muttered.
"I know about the headaches." Blair stopped and waited.
Jim walked a few more steps and stopped. He turned, but held his ground. "What do you know about those?" he asked suspiciously.
"I have a lot of information that you'll find very useful."
"I've been to the doctor. He hasn't been able to help."
"So hear me out. What can it hurt? Loud noises that shouldn't be loud. Smelling things that no one else can smell. Weird visuals. Taste buds off the map, right?"
"You're guessing."
"No. I can add the final thing that will prove I know what's going on with you. Extra-sensitive touchy-feely lately."
Jim's face paled. "You know? How? How can you possibly... ? You've had me watched? You've been following me? I'll arrest your ass!"
"No. No!" Blair put up his hands. "I wouldn't do that! Not without your permission anyway. I just conducted interviews. This town loves you, man. They really love you. Listen. Can we go somewhere and talk?"
Jim's anger fled, replaced by sadness. Dejectedly, he said, "Sandburg, it was supposed to be my wedding day. I've just fucked up my entire life by admitting on national television that I'm gay. My family will probably never speak to me again. My former fiancée hates my guts. By tomorrow, I'll be unemployed. I can't handle anything else right now."
"Okay, man. Sure. Sorry I bugged you. Later, okay?" Blair turned and made himself walk away. If Jim needed him -- wanted him, he knew where to find him.
Jim watched the retreating man, unsure what to do. He was so confused that he did nothing. He watched Blair leave and with a tired sigh, he went home.
-----------------------------------------------------
Carolyn drove into the gravel parking lot of Bubba's Bar and Pool Hall on Route 32 and threw the car into park. Throwing open the door, she pulled off the heavy net veil and tossed it over the seat. Throwing the keys on the passenger's seat, she dragged herself out of the car with the heavy wedding dress dragging in the dirt. She strode into the bar and sat at a stool.
"Vodka! Straight!" she ordered.
The bartender looked at her questioningly. He took in the wedding dress and her tear-streaked face. Her mascara had run when she had cried and now made dark dried tracks on her face. He had the good sense to remain silent. He poured the drink and put it down in front of her.
"Thanks." Carolyn chugged the shot in a gulp. "Hit me again. And give me some of those peanuts."
The man refilled her glass and pushed a large bowl of unshelled nuts in front of the obviously distraught woman.
Carolyn drank the second shot in two gulps. She grabbed a handful of nuts and started to shell them, tossing the casings over her shoulder and onto the floor. Then she noticed the man sitting two stools down. She slid over next to him.
"Hey," Carolyn said invitingly. "You with anybody?" She appreciatively observed the young man. She liked the long, reddish-brown curly hair caught in a pony-tail and the handsome, somewhat boyish face. When the man turned and smiled, blue-eyes twinkling, Carolyn smiled back.
"Blair Sandburg. Can I buy you a drink?" the man offered.
Carolyn grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," she said coquettishly. "Hit me again," she growled at the bartender.
The bartender poured. Blair smiled. Carolyn chugged.
"Nice dress," Blair said conversationally.
"I hate it," she said, pulling at the sequins dotting the bodice. "I was supposed to get married today."
"No!" Blair responded. "Something happen?"
"Yeah, my beloved informed me, on the altar I might add," Carolyn wagged a finger into Blair's face, "that he was fucking gay! Can you believe it? Three years! I waited three long, fucking, boring, sexless years and he tells me at the fucking altar that he's gay!"
"Whoa! That must have been rough!" Blair said sympathetically.
"Damn straight."
"Not any more," Blair muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. You want another? You're not driving are you?"
"Yeah, I'm driving. What about it? I'll have another, bar-keep," Carolyn slurred.
The bartender frowned. "Keys."
"What?" Carolyn asked confusedly.
Blair leaned over and said, "Give the man your keys, darlin'. We want you to be safe."
"Oh. They're out in the car. No purse." Carolyn held up her hands, hiccupped and grinned. "May I have another?"
The bartender sighed and poured. Carolyn picked up the glass and leaned toward Blair. "Will you have sex with me?"
Blair spewed out a mouthful of beer. "What?"
"I'm primed and ready. I've been waiting for three years! I have the dress, see?" Carolyn whined.
"Three years? You mean in all that time you and he -- he never -- you didn't -- do it?"
"Nope."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. He convinced me that it was the proper thing to do. Wait for the wedding night. Make it special. What a bunch of crap!" Carolyn sloshed half the contents of the shot glass onto the counter. "So will you?"
"Ah, thanks for the offer, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Blair said compassionately.
"Why?" Carolyn whined even louder. "I'm ugly, right? You think I'm fat?"
"No. No, you're a beautiful woman. You're not fat at all, but the truth is, I'm gay."
"What?" Carolyn slipped from the barstool and stood, hands on hips. "Is the whole fucking world gay?" With that she fled from the establishment in a cloud of crinkling white satin.
"Great work, Sandburg," Blair muttered to himself, rising to follow to be sure that Carolyn didn't try and drive. He tossed a twenty on the bar, knowing that the woman didn't have any money with which to pay for her drinks and shrugged at the questioning face of the bartender.
When he exited the bar, he saw the car sitting in the parking lot with the white steamers still flowing from its moorings, the tin cans hanging from the bumper and the sign still attached, albeit a bit battered from the drive across town. The car keys were on the passenger's seat. Blair reached in through the open window and pocketed them just to be on the safe side. He glanced around for the slightly sloshed former bride and saw that she was in the middle of the road in front of a vehicle that had stopped. Outlined in the sports car's headlights, Blair could see two figures sitting on the ground, one of whom was the runaway bride. Concerned, he walked over to the strange duo.
-----------------------------------------------------
Carolyn raced from the bar, crying once again. The vodka made her dizzy and she awkwardly ran out into the middle of the road and threw up her hands. "Won't somebody marry me?" she cried out, looking heavenward. "I have the dress! My bags are packed! I have plane tickets to Hawaii! All I need is a hussssbaaaannnnddddd!" she cried.
A car approached and Carolyn's figure was caught in the glaring headlights. Momentarily blinded, she took two steps back before she slipped into a heap, crying.
The door opened and a voice asked, "Are you all right? Miss? Are you hurt?"
Carolyn raised her tear-stained face. "I'm good," she said dejectedly, grabbing handfuls of the billowing dress and holding them up in the light. "Don't I look good?" she sobbed.
"Miss Plummer? Carolyn?" the voice questioned. "Is that you?"
Carolyn squinted. "Who is that?"
The man stepped from behind the door and knelt next to Carolyn. "It's me, Brian Rafe."
"Brian! Oh my God!" Carolyn put a hand over her heart. "How have you been? It's been years! You're so fucking handsome!"
"And you're a bit tipsy," Brian said tenderly, kneeling on the pavement in front of her.
"Yes, I am," Carolyn agreed, hiccupping.
"May I take you home?"
"Why-- why, yes. Thank you. That's the nicest thing anybody's offered to do for me in a long time."
"Really? I'd have thought that lots of guys would want to do nice things for you, Miss Plummer."
Carolyn smiled shyly and put out her hand. "Carolyn, please. You and I were friends when we knew each other years ago, weren't we?" Brian started to take the outstretched hand when a man's voice interrupted.
"Is everything okay?" asked the man.
Brian looked up into the face of the man he recognized from the WJAG television station in Cascade, his current home town. "You're one of those investigative reporters from Cascade, aren't you?"
"Yes," Blair said, pleased to be recognized. "Blair Sandburg. Anything I can do to help?"
"I'll take Miss Plummer home."
"Good. She's in no condition to drive."
"Carolyn, please. Call me Carolyn," she said to Brian, who took her still-hovering hand. Ignoring Blair, she rose with Brian. He led her around to the passenger's side and helped her in.
"Thanks, Sandburg. I'll take it from here."
Blair handed Brian Carolyn's keys. "Here. You can make arrangements to pick it up tomorrow."
"Thanks again."
Blair shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, watching the couple leave. Brian waved a goodbye. Carolyn flipped him off. Blair grinned. Today had been a good day.
-----------------------------------------------------
Jim took the phone call with a heavy heart. Ten a.m. Monday was the time set for his execution -- a special meeting had been called by the Clayton County Commissioners and his presence had been demanded at the appointed hour. He sighed and sat in the darkened living room, his mind actually blank. He thought he would be endlessly mulling over the events of the past two days, but instead, he felt -- nothing, thought -- nothing, wanted -- nothing. Suited him just fine.
The gentle knock at the door didn't rouse Jim, so William opened the door quietly and walked through the darkened house. When his hand reached for the light switch on the wall, Jim finally spoke.
"Don't. Please."
"Okay, son." William shifted from one foot to another. "Are you okay?" He took a step toward the shadowy outline. "Are you hungry?" After a long pause, he added, "Are you still gay?"
Jim let out a small bark of sad laughter. "Yeah, Dad. I'm still gay."
"Are you going to have an operation?"
"What?"
"You know, the sex change."
Jim smiled at his father's innocence at what it meant to be gay. "No, Dad. I'm not having any operation."
"Good." William stood tensely for a few more moments before he said, "I'm trying to understand, Jimmy. You're my son and I love you."
Jim looked into William's face, truly looked, and saw the love there even with the confusion he knew his father was feeling. His throat swelled and his eyes felt deceptively damp. "Thank you. I love you, too."
"Your mother says to tell you to come for breakfast tomorrow. She's worried you're not eating properly."
"All right. Is seven okay?"
William took a step closer to Jim and nodded. "Seven's fine, son." He waited expectantly and when Jim rose, William smiled and hugged his son, patting his back. "Good night. Jimmy."
"Thanks, Dad," Jim said again. "You're the best. Mom, too."
William waved off Jim's compliment with a smile and went home to his wife, pleased that he had accomplished the mission on which Grace had sent him.
------------------------------------------------------
Thanks to Blair and WJAG, the news carried the announcement about the special council session. Because of the buzz and the number of people who had called the commissioner's office regarding the meeting, the commissioners were forced to move the gathering from their usual meeting place in the county courthouse to the Clayton Falls High School auditorium.
A table and chairs were set up on the stage so that the citizens could view the proceedings. The five members of the county commission sat along the backside of the table, facing the crowd. Jim Ellison sat at the left end of the table. Jim had attended every county meeting and special session since he was appointed to his position those many years ago, barring answering a call or being incapacitated by a worthless perp.
Even at this hour on a work day, the entire town had turned out to hear the proceedings. A low buzz of voices hummed in the room, making Jim's head ache. Most of the store owners had closed shop for the event and had gotten seats early so that they could have a good view. The fire department took up a block of seats, as well as members of the sheriff's office and several teenagers who had skipped school to listen in on the goings-on. This was the biggest thing that had happened in Clayton Falls since that group of fake army soldiers had taken over the town a few years back using a staged plague scare in order to rob a government train of old money that was being sent to Spokane for destruction.
Blair Sandburg had his cameraman set up in the back of the room with the camera focused on the dais. From this angle he could capture on film the commissioners, Ellison, and a good portion of the townspeople. He wasn't missing a second of the proceedings and he wanted everyone's reactions and statements caught on film. He stood, microphone in hand, and spoke in a low voice.
"Good morning! This is Blair Sandburg, WJAG television, Cascade, Washington, and this is day four of our week-long coverage of James Ellison, Sheriff of Clayton County, Washington. Today the saga continues! A special session of the Clayton County Commission was called for ten a.m. and the only item on the agenda is whether or not an official complaint should be sent to the governor's office requesting the removal of this well-liked and much-loved public official. The governor would then make the determination regarding Sheriff Ellison's future as Clayton County's chief law enforcement officer.
"We are currently in the Clayton Falls High School Auditorium on a cold, rainy morning in October. This meeting is brought to you live! Let's listen in on the proceedings and observe your government, by and for the people, in action. These are your tax dollars at work!"
The meeting was called to order by the chairperson and the room felt silent. The anticipation was so thick, Jim could see it in the air. He wondered if it was to see if he would be reprimanded and allowed to resume his duties, or to see if he would be drawn and quartered, and run out of Clayton County on a rail. Sitting very still, Jim's face betrayed none of the emotions coursing through his body, not the least of which was why the singular scent of one hairy, annoying, talkative news reporter insisted on dancing through his senses. Try as he might, he couldn't erase the aroma from his nasal passages and the more he concentrated on Blair, the more the man's very presence etched itself into Jim's brain.
Everything about Sandburg invaded his senses. His scent wafted through Jim's nasal passages, an enticing fragrance tickling his nose. His breathing echoed melodically in Jim's ears, music to soothe his currently damaged psyche. Jim's heartbeat mysteriously fell into sync with Blair's, comforting him deeply for some entirely inexplicable reason. His voice washed over Jim's entire being, body and soul, like a warm, fuzzy woolen blanket on a bitter cold winter night. That was when he realized that because Blair was in the same room with him, he felt absolutely -- wonderful. "I'm going absolutely insane," Jim mused. He briefly wondered if they'd have a nice, quiet room at the asylum for him when he realized that every eye on the room was focused on him. He blinked and shook his head slightly to clear it.
"Sheriff Ellison! Are you okay?" Commissioner George Regan asked. "I was speaking to you but you've been ignoring my questions! Are we keeping you from something else? Something more important than this?" he asked somewhat sarcastically.
"Excuse me, sir. The last few days have been -- hectic. I have a bit of a headache." Jim sighed, hoping that the explanation would assuage the council.
"We understand, Sheriff Ellison," Marge Crawford said kindly. "Do you wish to address the board before we vote on the motion that has been put before us?" She gave him an encouraging smile.
Jim asked, "Could you restate the motion, please?"
"Oh, for God's sake," Commissioner Edwards interrupted. "Let's get on with it. Everybody is in agreement." She glared at the board members, obviously having already made the decision for the entire assembly.
Crawford bristled. "I wish to hear what, if anything, Sheriff Ellison has to say on this matter. He's been a member of this community since he was born and he's been an exemplary sheriff for ten years. The man deserves his day in court."
"This isn't a court of law, Marge," Commissioner Hank Grossman said. "It's a hearing to determine whether or not Sheriff Ellison violated his morals clause when he announced to the world that he's -- homosexual." Hank said the last word very quietly.
Jim said firmly, "I've already admitted that I'm gay, but that has absolutely nothing to do with the execution of my duties as sheriff of Clayton County. There isn't anybody in this room who can say that I've ever been derelict in the execution of my office that is in any manner related to this fact."
"That is irrelevant, Sheriff," Commissioner Edwards said coldly. "It is harmful to the citizens of this town, especially the children, to have to -- look up to and rely on someone of your -- persuasion. I think that this council will do the proper thing and vote to request that the governor have you permanently removed from duty."
"Now wait just a second!" a man's rather loud voice echoed from the back of the hall. All heads turned and a gasp went through the crowd.
"It's Brian Rafe!" one woman called out.
"That's the guy who outed Sheriff Ellison!" a man shouted.
"He's very handsome," one of the teenagers said loudly, making Brian turn toward the voice and grin.
Commissioner Edwards rose. "This meeting is for the citizens of Clayton County, Mr. Rafe. Not for gawkers. It is official business."
"Oh, and I'm not a citizen? And when was that decision made? One foggy night while I was in Cascade? I still own a piece of property out on Route 12. My folks still live here." Brian searched the crowd. "Hi, Mom! Hi, Sis!" he called. The women smiled and waved from across the room. "We'll do lunch after this -- mess," he said to his family with an answering wave.
Chairman Regan said, "You are entitled to speak as far as I'm concerned. Anybody else have any objections?"
The other members of the board shook their heads or murmured their compliance.
"See?" Rafe said. "Everybody's entitled to a fair trial. Don't you all think so?" he asked the crowd.
"Yes!" -- "Of course!" -- "Right on!" Voices called out
"Go ahead, Brian. You tell 'em!" somebody shouted.
"This is getting out of hand," Commissioner Edwards said coolly.
"Okay, then, let's get right to the point," Rafe said. "So this is a "trial" where you guys are deciding if it's okay for my good friend, Sheriff Ellison, to be gay or not? Oh, hi, Jim. Glad to see you. You're looking good." Rafe spread his hands out, palms up. "Sorry to put you in the middle of this."
"It's okay, Rafe. Thanks." Jim smiled and shrugged. "I'll live."
"Could we get on with this, please?" Commissioner Edwards groused.
"Oh, right. Okay. So let me get this straight. You're all thinking of trying to oust Jim here because he's gay. Is there any particular reason for this? I mean, do you think that because you now know this fact that he'll go around and say, unduly influence the kids? That the gay thing will... infect the water supply? What is it exactly that scares you about the fact that Ellison is gay? What are you afraid of? What has he done that proves he's not capable of being this county's sheriff? I'm curious to know. I'm sure the people of this good county are curious to know." Rafe turned toward the crowd. "Anybody else here interested in the reasons behind this meeting?"
Commissioner Edwards held her head high. "I, for one, am not afraid of anything. It's the morality of the thing that I object to. And yes, the children will be unduly influenced."
"So you're saying that you can become a homosexual by getting too close to a gay man or a lesbian?" Rafe said. Rubbing his chin, he said, "Hmmm. I spent a heck of a lot of time with the sheriff a few years ago and I don't think I'm infected. At least not yet, anyway." He grinned.
"This is ridiculous," Edwards said. "The entire thing is perverted. He's -- disgusting."
Joel Taggart finally had enough. "Excuse me," he said loudly in his booming voice. "I've been working side by side with Sheriff Ellison now for almost ten years and I have a confession to make." Joel looked around, crossed his arms and said very clearly, "I'm gay."
"Now wait just a second," Commissioner Edwards said. "I must object!"
Megan Connor rose. "Oh my God!" she cried, rubbing her arms and pulling at her hair. "It's happening right now! I'm -- I'm gay!" she squeaked.
Chairman Regan said, "Please, Deputy Connor, that's a bit..."
"I have a confession to make," Sam Perkins said, rising. "I'm Sheriff's Ellison hairdresser and I'm gay!" He grinned when the crowd applauded.
Commissioner Edwards groaned and covered her face.
Phil Manetti stood up. "I'm Jim's tailor and I'm gay!" He threw up his arms and twirled once.
"I'm Amelia Parker, the sheriff's mail carrier, and I'm gay!" She held up a handful of letters.
"We're the volunteer fire department," the ten men said in unison as they rose to their feet, "and we're gay!" They all nodded and high-fived each other.
The board members started smiling. Commissioner Edwards scowled. Jim hid his face behind his hands for a moment, overcome with emotion while tears clouded his eyes before he looked back over the crowd.
Steven Ellison rose. "I'm Jim's brother and if Jim's gay, then I'm gay too!" he crowed enthusiastically.
"I'm James' mother," Grace rose gracefully and smiled, "and I'm a -- a lesbian."
Jim rolled his eyes. Grace waved at him and he waved in return.
William Ellison looked around the room and rose. "I have something I'd like to say." The entire room fell silent and waited expectantly. "I'm Jim's father and I want everybody in this town to know that I love my son and I'm -- a homosexual!"
The entire room rose and everyone shouted, "We're gay!" The noise was deafening. The crowd laughed and hugged each other. More than a few people cried.
Chairman Regan pounded on the gavel until the congregation settled down. While everybody took their seats, Jim found what he had been searching for. Blair stood against the back wall and when their eyes met, Blair gave Jim a dazzling smile and raised both hands with thumbs up. "Way to go, Ellison," he whispered. Jim was surprised that he could hear the softly-spoken words and he nodded his appreciation of Blair's support.
When the crowd finally settled, Regan said, "I move we take a vote on the proposal on the table. Should this board file a complaint with the governor requesting that James Ellison be removed as sheriff of Clayton County?"
"I second the motion," one of the commissioners said.
"Those in favor of the motion?"
The entire room was dead silent when Commissioner Edward's stern voice said, "I am."
Regan nodded. "So noted. Those opposed to filing the complaint requesting that Sheriff Ellison be removed from his duties? "
The other four council members each said, "I am."
Regan said, "Motion denied. Sheriff Ellison keeps his position as sheriff of Clayton County as far as this Board of County Commissioners is concerned. Meeting adjourned." He enthusiastically smacked the gavel on the wooden table while the entire room whooped and hollered its approval.
Jim smiled and rose, waving to the happy group. Everybody shouted out their congratulations and good wishes to the sheriff. Calls of "speech" were heard and Jim waited a few moments for quiet.
"Thank you all for your support. I'd like to especially thank my family. Mom. Dad. Steven. You're the best family any man could have. Mom, I'm very sorry about the wedding. I know how important it was to you, so I have an idea."
Grace smiled proudly at her son, wiping her eyes while Jim continued.
"You and Dad just celebrated your forty-fifth wedding anniversary and I think that since we have the church and the hall decorated for a wedding, and all that food is just waiting to be eaten, it wouldn't make sense to let all that hard work and money go to waste. I'd like to ask you both to agree to a renewal of your wedding vows. I think this town deserves a party. What do you say?"
"That's a marvelous idea, son," William said happily. He turned to his wife and took her hand. "Grace, will you re-marry me?"
Grace dabbed at her eyes and said shakily, "I will."
Jim grinned and the crowd cheered. Then he held up his hand for quiet once again and when the room settled down, he said, "Okay. I think we should all meet at the church at four this afternoon for the festivities. Everybody's invited, so pass the word."
There was more clapping and soon the crowd started to filter out. Jim made his way from the dais to join his family. It took a few minutes because everybody wanted to give Jim a hug or shake his hand. When he managed to find his family, Grace held out her arms and hugged her son. William clapped him on the back and Steven slugged him on the arm. Jim ruffled Steven's hair and kissed his mother on the cheek. He shook his father's hand, but then he pulled William in for a quick hug, which William returned with a huge grin on his face.
"So, Ellison. You owe me?" Rafe asked from behind Jim.
Jim turned. "Owe you? You son-of-a bitch! This mess is your fault!" Jim took a step toward Rafe who backed up. The two men stood glaring for a moment before a smile broke across Jim's face. "Congratulations on the award, Brian. You deserved the recognition."
Rafe grinned. "I couldn't have done it without you." Rafe held out his hand. Jim shook it while patting his arm enthusiastically. "Thanks for everything, Jim."
"My pleasure, Brian."
"How about I buy you a beer?
Jim grinned. "It's a bit early for a beer, but I could use a cup of coffee."
"Great. It's my treat. Bring the family, Ellison!" Rafe called merrily, leading the group from the building.
Jim followed, trailing at the end of the line. When he walked out the doorway and into the hall, Blair stood leaning against the wall on the opposite side.
"Good going, Sheriff," Blair said.
Jim cocked his head and gave Blair a warm smile. "Thanks."
Blair grinned in return. It was the first truly spontaneous smile that he had seen from the usually stoic man and it made his heart beat faster. He wondered what other treasures Jim Ellison had buried away.
Jim started to walk after his small group when he stopped and turned to Blair. "Sandburg?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you mean it when you said you thought you could help me with these... What do you call them?"
"Hyperactive senses."
"Yeah, hyperactive senses."
"Well, yes. I think I can help."
"Maybe later, after the ceremony, you and I could -- talk for a bit? If you have the time with your news reporting and all. And if you can leave the camera turned off."
"That'd be great. It's a date."
Jim's mouth fell open and he watched in stunned silence while Blair turned and, whistling happily, went to find his cameraman. Jim closed his mouth and shook his head. Had he just made a "date" with a man? Good God, what have I gotten myself into now? he thought. Shaking his head in wry amusement, he followed after his family.
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The candles on the altar were re-lit. The flowers were still beautiful. The old flower petals were swept away and the pretty flower girl tossed fresh petals down for Grace to walk on. The pews were full to capacity when Grace and William held hands and tenderly smiled at each other. Grace looked beautiful in the off-white brocade suit that the owner of Milly's Bridal Showroom helped her pick out. William was handsome in the tux that Jim had chosen for his father to wear.
The minister smiled widely. "Grace, do you wish to renew your marriage vows to William?"
"I do," Grace said softly.
The minister asked, "William, do you wish to renew your marriage vows to Grace?"
"I do."
Smiling, the minister said, "Now William and Grace have something to tell each other about why this renewal means so much to both of them. They would like you to share in this exchange. Grace?"
Smiling and with tears streaming down her face, Grace said, "William, you've been a good husband for the past forty-five years. You've been a fine father and an excellent provider. I love you more today than I did when I first met you and I promise to continue to love you forever."
"That was beautiful, Grace," the minister said. "William?"
William cleared his throat. "Gracie, I love you as much as I ever have. You've given me two fine children and more happiness than any man deserves. I love you very much."
The minister smiled at the happy couple and said to the gathering, "William and Grace's vows are now renewed!"
The organ burst into song while William and Grace walked back down the aisle amid the clapping of their friends and family. Jim stood, grinning. Grace stopped and kissed her sons' cheeks. William shook hands with his boys before the newly remarried couple was w whisked away to the reception hall beside the church. Jim watched happily, pleased that Grace had finally gotten the wedding she had wanted all of her life. When Steven put his hand on Jim's shoulder, Jim turned to smile at his brother.
"Are you okay?" Steven asked.
Jim paused for a second before he said, "Yeah, I guess I am okay. Imagine that. Come on, Stevie. Let's go party."
The band was already playing when the Ellison brothers entered the hall. Jim stood and looked around appreciatively. The place was beautifully decorated and his parents looked very pleased whirling in each other's arms in the center of the dance floor. Jim was thinking about finding something to eat when he was surprised to see Carolyn approaching him with her hand on Brian Rafe's arm.
"Hello, Jim," she said.
"Hello, Carolyn. It's good to see you." Jim wondered if there would be another blowout, but the look on his ex-'s face wasn't one of anger, but one of happiness. He smiled cautiously at her.
"Thanks. You, too."
"I'm sorry..." Jim started to say.
"No. It's fine. Brian and I have been talking since, well, since the wedding didn't take place and actually, everything worked out for the best." Carolyn smiled at the man on her arm.
Brian patted her fingers that were wrapped around his arm. "Carolyn's a wonderful woman. It was fate, Jim. I saw Carolyn last night outside the bar and all the feelings I had for her years ago hit home. We're going to give it a go."
"You two? You and Rafe?" Jim said to Carolyn. "You and Carolyn?" Jim looked over at Rafe.
Both smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir," Rafe said with a grin. "If she'll have me."
"Oh, you..." Carolyn said tenderly, giving Rafe a small peck on the cheek. "Good luck, Jim."
"You, too, Carolyn." Jim watched, still surprised, while Rafe lead Carolyn onto the dance floor. He thought about how be felt about losing his fiancée so quickly to another man and after a moment of reflection, he realized he felt -- relieved. A big smile crossed his lips.
"You look like you're doing pretty well, Jim," Blair Sandburg said from beside him.
Jim looked over at Blair, who stood, hands in his pockets, looking incredibly handsome in a navy blue suit, powder blue shirt and navy tie with tiny red, blue and white squares.
"I am doing well -- surprisingly well," Jim mused.
"Want to dance?"
"What?" Jim stepped away from Blair.
Blair laughed. He closed the space between them and said, "Let's dance!"
"In public?"
Blair rolled his eyes. "Of course! I love this song!"
Jim hadn't been paying attention to the music and it took a few moments for him to realize that the song that the entire room was grooving to was "It's Raining Men" by the Weather Girls. He groaned. He knew the title and who sang the song so he must be gay.
"Come on!" Blair grabbed Jim's sleeve and pulled.
Jim groaned but allowed himself to be tugged into the center of the action. For a few moments he felt incredibly embarrassed. Blair, however, just grinned and threw his arms up, dancing with unbridled enthusiasm. Jim shrugged and joined him. They cavorted for a good while before Jim ended up giving his mother a twirl, who laughed aloud at the sight of her sometimes too serious son having so much fun. After changing partners several times and even fast-dancing with his father and brother for a few steps, Jim felt something strange happen. He felt his long-held inhibitions flow out of his body and he felt really and truly happy. He spun around and grabbed Blair, hugging him tightly and pulling his feet from the floor.
Blair looked shocked for a bare second before he threw his arms around Jim, laughing. When Jim set him back down on his feet, Blair cried, "Let's conga!"
Jim threw up his hands. "What the hell!" He started a line and in minutes they had a hundred people in a line, laughing and dancing with abandon. Another song started and the dancing never stopped. It was well into the night before the party broke up and everybody went home, happy that the senior Ellisons were once again "married" and satisfied that their town was safe with Sheriff Ellison still on watch.
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Jim Ellison stared at the phone that he held in his hand. He raised a finger to touch a button but once again, hesitated. Sighing, he leaned back against the sofa and groaned. "Make the call, you wuss," Jim moaned aloud. "Just do it, like the television says."
Jim was aching to call Blair. In the three months since his parents' marriage renewal, he had spoken with Blair weekly and they had exchanged e-mails almost daily. He offered very useful suggestions and tips for Jim to practice while he was learning to control his senses. In fact, Blair had come to Clayton Falls several times when Jim experienced terrible repercussions from his newly-activated senses. Once Jim had ended up in a deep zone after he answered a call regarding a chemical spill out on the interstate and the emergency room doctors were puzzled when he was brought into the ER. He wasn't injured, but he seemed to be in a coma. Joel Taggart had called Blair since Joel was one of the few people privy to Jim's sensitive condition, and Blair arrived within hours, driving through the night to help his friend.
Blair visited two other times to help Jim with his senses. When Jim suffered a small knife wound after an altercation at the truck stop on Highway 12, the pain from the wound was very intense in spite of needing only two stitches. Jim had shakily called his friend and Blair once again insisted that he had to see Jim in person. He had dropped everything to drive to Clayton Falls and had ingeniously taught Jim to dial the pain up or down at will by using something much like a television or radio dial. Several times since that lesson, Jim had used the dials successfully to tame his runaway senses.
Another time Jim had stopped for lunch out at Bubba's Bar and Pool Hall, and had broken out in hives. His vision was fuzzy and he felt dizzy. Without Jim having to ask, Blair raced to Clayton Falls to help Jim through his crisis. Blair had tracked down the culprit and Jim now avoided the bottled water that Bubba bragged he imported from Italy. Jim had stuck to the local water ever since and so far, there had been no recurrences.
Now, Jim had another reason to call Blair. He wasn't in pain. His senses were relatively calm. He wasn't under duress. He didn't feel sick or weak. No, he felt pretty damned good because he was in love. Jim sighed. He had thought long and hard about this fact and the outcome was undeniable. Jim Ellison loved Blair Sandburg, and he decided to see if there was any chance in hell that Blair could possibly return Jim's feelings. For once, he wanted to call Blair when he senses weren't troubling him and ask him for something simple -- to go out on a date. A normal, non-Sentinel-related, non-emergency date. Dinner and maybe a movie. Simple, right? Jim hadn't realized what a coward he was. Gritting his teeth, and with single-minded determination, Jim dialed. He almost dropped the phone when Blair answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Sandburg?" Jim blurted out.
"Jim?"
"Yeah."
"What's wrong?"
"I... Well... I wanted to... Do you think..." Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"What? You're having sensory spikes? Did you do your breathing? What about the mantra we worked on?"
"Chief, please..."
"Jim, man, talk to me. I'm freaking out here."
"Sandburg, shut up."
Silence fell and the time stretched. Two minutes passed, then three before Jim finally sighed into the phone, "Blair?"
"I'm waiting."
"For God's sake, Sandburg!"
"Hey, man. Don't bitch at me. You told me to shut up. Now you're upset I listened."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
"Let's take this one step at a time. Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"Are your senses okay?"
"Yes."
"Is this just a 'hello' call?"
"Ah, kind of."
"Good. Okay. Did you want something in particular?"
"Yes."
Silence again but this time Blair broke first. "What do you want, Jim?" he asked very softly.
"Will you...?" Jim bit his lip.
"Yes?" Blair encouraged.
"Will you come to...?"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Be happy to."
"Yes to what?"
"Whatever you want, man. I'm yours."
"Oh. Okay. Good. That's really good."
"Yeah, good." Blair laughed. "Any particular time or place? Sometime this year maybe?"
"Smart ass. How about Friday? You free from work? Come and ah, stay over. It's too long a drive to go back at night and I have an extra bedroom."
"Oh, thanks! That's sounds great. You want me to bring something?"
"No. I'll cook. Just bring you, Sandburg -- Blair. Just you."
"Now that I can do, man. Friday it is. Be there about sixish"
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Me, too. Night, Jim."
"Good night, Chief." Jim disconnected and flopped back onto the sofa in a fake faint, holding his hand over his heart. Relieved, he shouted, "I did it!"
-----------------------------------------------------
Jim fussed with the table for the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. He straightened out the napkins yet again and he realigned the candles so that they were perfectly centered. He checked the food that he had prepared and that was now bubbling away in the oven -- Chicken Divan -- chicken, rice and broccoli with fresh cheddar cheese sauce. Opening the fridge, he tested the salad, making sure the greens were still crisp. He shook the bottle holding the French dressing he had made from a recipe he saw on Emeril Live! two nights ago. He opened the freezer and carefully studied the mocha chip pie he had prepared. It was a chocoholic's delight with coffee ice cream, dark chocolate chips and a crust made from crushed chocolate sandwich cookies. He hoped Blair enjoyed chocolate as much as he did.
Pleased with his efforts so far, Jim went into the downstairs bathroom and made a final check of his hair. He brushed his hand across the short, silky brown strands and nodded. "It will have to do, Ellison," he growled. He checked his teeth and breath, and when he was satisfied he was presentable, he went out into the living room and looked around. A fragrant aroma wafted from a small candle burning on the end table and the rest of the room was spotless. He was so busy with his inspection that the rap at the front door almost startled him. Jim crossed to the door and pulled it open.
"Sandburg! Come on in." Jim couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. He did manage to stifle the urge to hug the handsome man.
"Hi, Jim! You're looking very nice," Blair entered and held out a small green plant in a nicely-decorated container. "Something for your house," he said with a grin.
"Thanks. It's nice of you. Where's your bag?"
"I left it in the car. I felt kind of -- funny. I don't want to be -- pushy." Blair shrugged. "I'm glad to see you."
"Chief, I invited you. Remember? We'll get it later. Come in and sit down. I have wine if you'd like some." Jim put the plant down on the table.
"I'd love some. Thanks." Blair walked into the living room and looked around. "I like your place, Jim."
"You act like you've never seen it before."
"No. It's not that. It's just that it feels -- comfortable. You know, like..." Blair stopped and smiled. "It's nice, Jim. And something smells wonderful! I'm starved."
Jim was tempted to press Blair to finish his statement. Like what, he wondered. Like -- home? Jim hoped Blair felt at home because by the end of their time together, Jim sincerely hoped that he could convince Blair to move to Clayton Falls and into his home. He wanted to share everything with Blair, but he was still afraid. It was a huge step and Jim wanted to be sure it was exactly what he -- and what Blair -- wanted. He would take it slowly and see how things progressed.
"Take off your jacket. The hall closet is right there. Relax. I'll get wine."
"Great. Thanks." Blair shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a wooden hanger. By the time he turned, Jim stood with two glasses in hand.
Handing one to Blair, Jim held up his glass. "I'm glad you're here," he said quietly.
"Me, too. Very glad." Blair smiled and they both took a sip.
"Dinner's ready whenever you are. It can wait for a bit longer but we want to eat soon so it's not ruined."
"Let's eat now, then. I'm really hungry and it smells heavenly. Lead on, Jim." Blair took another sip of the delicious wine. "This is excellent."
Jim led the way to the dining room. "Sit down."
"I'd rather help if you don't mind. I'm not used to being waited on and besides, I like doing things with you."
"Okay," Jim answered, pleased. Together they went into the kitchen. Jim handed Blair the salad and dressing. "Give this a quick toss. Tongs are in the top drawer to the right of the sink." Jim pulled the casserole from the oven while Blair tossed the salad. They carried the dishes to the table and Jim put his down on a hot pad.
"Now sit. Let's eat while it's hot." Jim dished up the chicken casserole while Blair filled the smaller plates with salad. Soon they were eating contentedly.
"Oh, man. This is wonderful, Jim. You're an excellent cook."
"Thanks. I like to cook."
"Me, too. I enjoy it. It's a satisfying feeling to prepare a meal and watch people enjoy eating it."
"Yeah, it is," Jim agreed. "More chicken?"
"Please," Blair held up his plate. "Just one scoop. I'm getting full."
"I made dessert, too."
"Oh, man. You're killing me here. Can we digest and have dessert later?"
"Of course."
When the meal was finished, the table cleared and the dishes done after Blair insisted he could dry if Jim washed, Jim led the way to the living room. He put on some nice music and they sat on the sofa.
"Do you mind if I take off my shoes?" Blair asked. At Jim's shake of the head, Blair pulled off the brown leather hikers and sighed gratefully. He pulled up his feet and curled on the sofa with his head resting against the back. He relaxed and soon his full stomach made him drowsy.
"You sleepy, Blair?"
"Too much good food and a long week. I'm sorry." He yawned.
"You ready for bed?"
Blair gave Jim a slow, lazy grin. "Is that an invitation?"
Jim blushed to the roots of his hair. "No! I mean..."
"What? I'm not attractive to you? You aren't interested?" Blair's sleepiness faded quickly.
"Well, yes. No! Oh, fuck."
"Jim! Such language from a fine, upstanding officer of the law." Blair rose to his knees and scooted over toward him. "Would you like to use your handcuffs on me, Officer?" he asked sexily.
"Oh, shit," Jim blurted out. "You're not very shy, are you?"
"One of us has to get this thing moving, Ellison," Blair growled softly. "I've waited long enough. I've tried to be patient. Let me put this plainly. I want you." Blair touched a single finger to Jim's lips. "Very much."
"Oh, shit," Jim repeated, making Blair laugh deeply.
"Is that a good response or a bad response? You're happy I want you or you'd like to kick my ass right out your very nicely painted front door? Tell me, Jim." Blair sat back on his heels, hands on his lap, and waited. "Why am I here?"
"Because..." Jim cleared his throat. "Because I think I'm in love with you."
"Oh!" Blair was taken aback for a moment. He had expected that Jim liked him well enough and had quite possibly wanted to have sex with him, but this was unexpected. He didn't think he was the type of guy that well-built, handsome, intelligent older men usually wanted for much more than a quick fuck. Most men didn't look past his outside packaging. They saw the cute looks, long hair and full lips and thought, sex toy. He was very pleased and very happy that Jim saw more. "Why?" he asked softly.
"What? Why do I think I'm in love with you?"
"Yes. Can you tell me? I'd really like to hear it. Please."
"Okay." Jim sat for a moment collecting his thoughts. "You're smart. You're caring. You've helped me with the Sentinel thing without asking for a single thing for yourself. No money. Not even a story. You seem to care about me. I mean, me personally, not just the gay man or the senses stuff. You make me feel -- special."
"That was awesome, man. Just awesome." Blair smiled warmly, his blue eyes sparkling. "I have a confession to make also. I think I'm falling in love with you, too."
"But why didn't you say something? Why haven't you called me and said you wanted to get together? You're not shy, that's for sure."
"No, I'm not shy, but I wanted to give you space to process. I wanted you to be sure how you felt. This is all new to you, Jim. You were blindsided. I've known I'm gay for at least ten years, maybe more. This is just beginning for you, man. You needed time to think."
Jim smiled. "You know, Chief, I was right. You are a smart guy. You were right, too. I did need to think. Thanks for that."
"You're welcome."
"So you'll spend the night?"
"I'd love to."
Jim blushed again before he managed to ask, "With me? In my -- room?"
Blair chuckled. "That's the nicest invitation I've ever had, Jim. Yes, I will. Are you sure you're okay with that? After all, you never made love with Carolyn even though you'd known her for years. I thought you wanted to be committed before that final step."
Jim rolled his eyes. "With her, it was different. I thought I needed to be married to feel what I was supposed to feel. I thought after we were married, I'd feel the passion that I've always thought should be present when you love someone. I didn't know why I didn't feel -- fireworks with Carolyn. Now I know."
"You knew it wouldn't be good to make love and not be passionately in love?"
"Yeah, something like that. I do love Carolyn. I always will, but not passionately. Not like..." Jim smiled and took Blair's hand. "Not like I love you. This is going to sound incredibly corny, but I think I need to mate for life. Like a wolf."
Blair was a bit surprised when Jim mentioned wolves. He had always had a special affinity with the creatures himself. Wondering what other things about Jim would surprise him as they learned more about each other, Blair smiled and his eyes lit up. He loved a good expedition. "Okay, then. It's settled. Tonight we're lovers and we're committed. That sounds great to me."
"Yes, it does." Jim shifted a bit before he said, "Ah, there's something else you should know."
"So tell me." Blair moved closer and leaned his head against Jim's shoulder.
"I've never... This is damned embarrassing. I'm still a -- virgin," Jim managed to blurt out, once again embarrassed beyond belief.
Blair rubbed his arm. "Hey, don't worry. That's okay. I'm not -- with women that is. I've had a few lovers, nothing serious though. No big heartaches, no engagements gone awry. I've experimented with a guy before but it never got past hand jobs. I've always been a bit shy about shedding my clothes at the drop of a hat. I mean, besides with all the diseases running around, I don't think it's such a smart idea to go all the way with somebody you don't know very well. Now I know why I've been holding off taking that last step. I've been waiting for you."
"Cool," Jim said, using a Sandburg euphemism, making Blair giggle. "We'll figure it out."
"Yup. Together. It will be fun. You do like to have fun, Jim?"
"Everybody likes to have fun, Chief. I'm just a normal guy. Well, maybe not so normal."
"You're normal, Jim. Trust me on this. I like normal. And I definitely like you."
"So is it okay if I kiss you?"
"Oh, yeah! I'd love it if you'd kiss me."
Jim turned so that he and Blair were facing each other. They both leaned in slowly and when their lips touched, Jim shivered and Blair moaned softly. Jim's arms wound around Blair's shoulders and one hand snaked its way up under his hair, cupping the warm skull in his large palm. Blair's hands circled the back of Jim's head and caressed the soft hair. They kissed, tenderly, brushing soft skin against soft skin.
Jim broke the kiss first. "Nice," he murmured, smiling into Blair's ocean blue eyes.
"Very," Blair answered before moving back for another kiss, loving the feel of Jim's velvety lips against his. When he brushed the tip of his tongue against Jim's bottom lip, Jim's mouth parted. Blair accepted the invitation and deepened the kiss, tentatively exploring Jim's mouth with his tongue.
Jim shivered when Blair's tongue entered and he closed his eyes tightly, his senses almost overwhelmed. Blair tasted like mint and cheese and wine. His lips were soft and warm, and when Jim broke the kiss to take a breath, he brought his thumb up to rub Blair's lower lip.
"I know we kissed that one time before on the street, but I didn't realize how soft your lips were," Jim said quietly, smiling. He leaned in and boldly ran the tip of his tongue on Blair's mouth. "You taste wonderful."
Blair smiled. "I should have brushed my teeth right after dinner. With your senses and all."
"No. It's good. I like tasting you. It's not bad or anything, even the residual taste of dinner. Besides, you brushed your teeth not that long ago."
"You can tell?"
"I can taste the mint."
"That is so cool, Jim. You know what else is very, very cool?"
When Jim shook his head, Blair smiled. "Kissing you."
They fell against each other, kissing more passionately this time and exploring more boldly. It was many minutes before they broke apart, both men panting and half-hard with desire.
"Jim, please," Blair asked softly, his eyes dark and half-closed.
"My room," Jim blurted out, his face flushed.
Blair nodded.
Jim grabbed Blair's hand and hauled him to his feet. Not letting go, Jim led the way up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
"Nice bed," Blair said, eyes widening at the large, king-sized four poster that dominated the room.
Jim unbuttoned Blair's shirt. "It was my grandmother's."
Blair's fingers found Jim's buttons. "Hope she doesn't mind."
Jim chuckled. "She believed in deep, passionate love. Besides, I know she'd approve of you. She liked smart, sexy, gorgeous guys with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes." Jim tossed Blair's shirt onto the floor before pulling off his undershirt. He ran his hands over Blair's chest, laughing when the hairs tickled the palms of his hands.
Blair giggled when Jim's fingers touched his nipples. "Hang on," he said, tugging Jim's shirt-tail from his pants and unbuckling his buckle. He popped the button on Jim's slacks and started to pull the zipper down. "Shoes, Jim."
With his hands on Blair's shoulders, Jim toes off the loafers he was wearing "Blair!" he said hoarsely when he heard the zipper opening. "Wait!" He grabbed Blair's hand and held it.
"You okay, Jim? Too fast?"
"Let me catch my breath."
"Where are the dials?"
"Way too high."
Blair smiled. "Turn them down a bit, Jim. At least for this first time. Later on, we can experiment on where your limits are, but tonight, I don't think I'm going to be able to concentrate on anything but your body and how much I love you."
Jim trembled slightly and nodded. "Give me a sec." He closed his eyes and reopened him a minute later. "That's better. Sorry."
"Hey, man. Don't apologize. This is all new to me, too. We're learning here, Jim. I'm figuring this out along with you so when you feel something or need whatever, just say the word."
"You're doing a great job, Chief."
"Thanks." Blair moved his hands to Jim's shoulders. "Can we get rid of this shirt now, please?"
Jim grinned. "Yeah."
Smiling, Blair tugged off the shirt and when Jim raised his arms, he pulled off the muscle-type t-shirt.
Blair's mouth dropped open. "God, Jim. You have a great body! Absolutely fantastic." Moving closer, Blair asked, "May I touch you?"
"Yes, please!"
Blair ghosted his hands down Jim's strong shoulders, across the muscled chest and over the wash-board abs. "You are so beautiful." He leaned in and kissed a brown nipple, making Jim gasp. "Like that?"
"Hell, yes!" Jim blurted out.
"Great!" Blair kissed the other nipple. "Take off your pants. I want to see you."
"You, too."
Laughing, Blair said, "You want to keep this on a level playing field, huh?"
Jim shrugged, smiling. "I'm feeling a little -- awkward."
"Oh, hey, man, it's okay! You take off your own pants and I'll take off mine."
Jim slipped his pants down to his ankles and stepped out of them. He raised his eyes and saw that Blair had done the same with one big exception. Jim had on boxers and Blair had on nothing.
Blair threw out his hands. "No clean underwear."
Jim laughed. "What? You couldn't find the laundry?"
"Working too much, man. No time."
"You're a trip, Sand-- Blair. I love you." Jim pulled Blair close and when his face turned up, Jim leaned down slightly and kissed the waiting lips, savoring the taste and texture of Blair's skin once again.
When they parted many minutes later, grinning and fully aroused, Blair said, "Let's lie down before I fall on my face."
"Romantic, Chief. Very romantic." Jim pulled down the bedspread and sheets, climbing onto the bed and moving over to make room for his lover.
"Oh, nice sheets."
"Yeah. I had to buy new ones when the old ones scratched the heck out of my skin. I didn't really understand why before, but these do feel wonderful." Jim ran a hand over the soft material, sighing contentedly.
"They are nice," Blair agreed, stretching his body out on the expensive material. He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. "Lose the boxers, man."
Jim blushed. "I didn't think I'd feel quite this nervous," he stammered.
Blair smiled. Jim looked adorably shy and flustered. He said softly, "You're very handsome, Jim, and if you don't mind, I'd like to see more of you."
"Okay," Jim said just as quietly, slowly pulling off his own shorts.
Blair looked into Jim's eyes and smiled. He slowly moved his gaze down Jim's body to his shoulders, then his chest and stomach, and further, to his waist and crotch. He lingered for a few moments to admire the newly exposed parts before moving on to take in the muscular thighs and legs. When he brought his eyes back up to Jim's face, Jim was still a bit embarrassed. "You are perfect."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Chief. Enough with the ogling. Okay?"
"Oh, no. I plan on ogling for a long time. Hours. Days. Hell, as long as you'll let me." Blair waggled his eyebrows.
Laughing, Jim gave Blair a knowing look. "You figured if you made me laugh, I'd feel more comfortable."
"Worth a shot, I figured. Are you? More comfortable?"
"Yeah, a bit. Thanks. Now give me a kiss."
"Sure," Blair said happily, sliding closer to Jim so that their bodies touched. He planted feather-light kisses over Jim's face while lightly rubbing his hand on his upper arm. Kissing the end of Jim's nose, Blair smiled. "You seem interested," he said, running a single finger down the length of Jim's erection.
Jim gasped with surprise and pleasure at Blair's touch.
"Show me, Jim. Show me what you like. Show me how to touch you so you feel good."
"What?"
"Don't tell me you never masturbate either?"
"No, I've-- Yeah, I do. It's just kind of... strange to do it in front of somebody."
"I think it's extremely sexy. I want to watch you so I know what you like. Does it bother you?"
Jim considered the request for a moment before he realized that it didn't bother him. In fact, it made his heart race and his body react. "No. It's exciting. I didn't think... Never realized..."
"Touch yourself, then. Tell me what you like." Blair sat up and crossed his legs, his own member already leaking from the rosy head. "Tell me," he ordered quietly, watching intently.
Jim nodded and lay back, making himself comfortable. He bent his knees with his feet flat on the bed and let his legs fall open. After gathering some of the fluid leaking from his aching shaft onto his palm, he stroked himself slowly.
Blair's eyes drank in the sight of Jim, eyes closed and mouth open slightly, caressing himself. "How does it feel, Jim?" Blair asked softly.
"It feels -- hot -- good," Jim whispered.
"Do you like your balls touched?"
"Yes!"
Blair reached out a hand and gently cupped the warm globes, making Jim gasp again.
"God, Blair!"
"Is this okay?" Blair asked, lightly massaging the testicles while Jim continued to stroke.
"Feels very nice."
"Good. Tell me more, Jim."
"Put your hand over mine."
When Blair did as requested, Jim took in a shaky breath before releasing it noisily. "Harder," he panted.
Blair's hand wrapped around Jim's and together they brought Jim closer and closer to the edge. Blair watched his new lover carefully and when he saw that Jim was teetering, he leaned over and took the head of Jim's penis into his mouth. With his tongue, he tickled the small slit lightly. Immediately, he felt the organ swell and he knew that Jim was falling.
"Blair!" Jim cried when Blair's mouth closed over the crown, taking him by surprise. The heat was overwhelming and his body reacted. "Oh God!" Hot, salty strings shot from his erection, making him tremble with the force of his orgasm.
Always curious, Blair allowed the beginnings of Jim's orgasm to coat his tongue before he released the spurting member, licking his lips and examining the flavor of his lover's essence while his eyes drank in the sight of how wonderful Jim looked, sweaty and shuddering, coming over their joined hands.
"Damn, Chief! Are you trying to kill me?" Jim blurted out. "What the hell was that?"
"You liked that, didn't you?" Blair asked, laughing.
"It was fantastic!"
Pleased, Blair nodded. "It was, wasn't it?"
Jim struggled to catch his breath for a few moments and when he could think again, he admired his lover. His long hair tumbled over his shoulders in brown, curly strands. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark blue with passion. His penis bobbed, full and proud, and all Jim wanted was to smell him, to taste him, to see him tremble under his touch.
"Get over here," Jim ordered with an inviting smile. "My turn."
Blair laughed. "What do you want, tough guy?" he asked coquettishly, tossing his hair over his shoulder. He leaned back on his hands and rocked his hips.
"I'm the guy with the hyperactive senses, right?" Jim asked, sitting up and moving to his knees.
"Right."
"And you like to experiment on my senses, right?"
"Right."
"So are you up for a little experiment?"
"Sure am," Blair answered smartly.
"You're pretty confident you'll like me experimenting on you."
"I know I'll like you experimenting on me, Jim. No question."
Without another word, Jim slid Blair's legs apart and crawled in between them. Moving his face closer and closer to Blair's crotch, he sniffed lightly before rubbing his nose in Blair's pubic hair. "Tickles," he said with a chuckle; then he licked the hairy skin. "Tastes -- salty. It tastes like you smell, Blair." When Blair's dripping penis bumped into his face, he glanced up at his panting lover. "Going to taste you, Chief." He raised his head until his mouth was directly above Blair's erection and waited until Blair gave his go-ahead.
Blair nodded and held his breath, excited beyond words. For a moment he wondered if Jim would really do it, but a mere second later when Jim's tongue licked his leaking shaft, he almost screamed.
"Jim!" Blair cried.
"Like that, huh?"
"Oh, man," Blair blurted out breathlessly. "What do I taste like?" he managed to stammer.
"Warm. Salty." Jim wrapped his hand around the base and licked again. "Hard to explain. Like nothing I've tasted before." Taking another lick, Jim licked his own lips and considered the flavor. "I like it. It's definitely you.
"Good -- I think," Blair said with a laugh that was quickly cut off when Jim put his mouth around the entire crown. "Shit, Jim!" Blair hissed with pleasure when Jim used his teeth gently around the underside of the head. "God, Jim! Stop! You're driving me crazy. It's too soon!"
Jim released Blair's hard flesh. "You really want me to stop?"
"I'm going to come, Jim. Right now if you don't stop. It's embarrassing to come so quickly. It's unmanly!" Blair said with a laugh. "You make me so hot!"
Shrugging, Jim grinned. "So come. That's the general idea." With an evil grin, Jim wrapped his hand around the base of Blair's dripping shaft and sucked the exposed part into his mouth in one swoop, making Blair cry out and push deeper into Jim's mouth.
Not wanting to choke, Jim used his free hand to still his enthusiastic lover and with teeth and tongue, worked the throbbing member a bit clumsily.
Blair hadn't lied. It took just a few minutes before he yanked on Jim's hair. "Going to... Jim! Don't want you to... God, Jim!"
Jim concentrated on Blair's body and felt the minute changes to his erection in his mouth. He could tell that Blair was coming and he waited until the moment the semen started to erupt before he released the organ to watch. Curious, he held the thick shaft in his hand while he stroked Blair's balls gently, come spattering on Blair's stomach and his hand.
"You are so beautiful, Blair," Jim crooned softly, touching his lover's spasming organ. "I like watching you come for me. You're so damned sexy." He dipped a finger into the warm essence and touched the finger to his tongue, savoring the new flavor.
"Jim!" Blair whispered hoarsely. "That was awesome, man. God, I love you!"
Jim looked extraordinarily pleased. "I made you come!" he said unnecessarily.
"I'd say you certainly did. How did I taste?"
"Like heaven, Chief," Jim said tenderly. "Like nothing I've ever tasted before. Like nothing I've ever shared before with anybody. It was wonderful!" Grinning, Jim leaned over his mate and kissed his reddened lips ardently. It was many minutes before they parted to catch their breaths, only to return to another long, passionate session of kissing and caressing. Finally, the cool air made Blair shiver and he pressed himself against Jim.
"Come on, my love," Jim said softly. "How about a nice hot shower?"
"That's a great idea. I'd love to shower with you."
"Afterward, we'll have coffee and dessert."
"You're too good to me, man."
Jim smiled and tugged his lover from the bed. "I'll bet you're not used to having anybody take care of you."
"What makes you say that?" Blair asked, following Jim into the large bathroom.
"I figure you've been on your own for a while. You seem pretty independent. Besides, you told me that you haven't had any big romances, so I also figured you lived alone." Jim looked a bit -- flustered.
"Jim, did you investigate me?"
Jim blushed. "Yeah, a little. I wanted to know more about you."
Blair shook his head in mild exasperation. "All you had to do was ask. I don't have any big, dark secrets. Towels?"
Jim turned on the shower and adjusted the water. "Hall closet."
Blair grabbed two giant bath towels and a smaller one for his hair. Depositing them close to the shower, he joined Jim, who held the stall door open for him.
Laughing, Blair joined his mate under the warm water and they washed each other's bodies, relishing the closeness after their lovemaking session.
"You're not upset that I looked into your background, Chief?" Jim tentatively asked.
Blair gave it a moment's consideration before he said, "No, not really. It meant that you were interested enough about me to check me out. I don't blame you, though. You're in the public eye, as we well know. It wouldn't help if I had been some charlatan or a con guy. So did I pass?"
"With flying colors, Blair." Jim helped Blair dry his hair.
-----------------------------------------------------
A little while later, downstairs in clean sweats and thick socks for Blair and sweat pants and a t-shirt for Jim, they enjoyed Jim's ice cream pie with fresh coffee.
"This is delicious, Jim," Blair said, licking his fork. "Good thing you don't cook for me all the time. I'd gain ten pounds in a month."
Jim laughed before he became serious. "I'd like to cook for you."
"Okay. Sure. I like your cooking."
"No, I mean I'd like to cook for you all the time. You know, every day."
"Oh?" Blair said, a bit surprised but very hopeful. "Meaning...?"
"Meaning if we could work it out, would you consider, ah, moving in with me?"
"Yes."
"That was too easy."
Blair shrugged, laughing. "As long as it has to do with you and what you want, Jim, I'm easy."
"You mean that?"
"Yeah, I mean that. When I said I loved you, I meant that, too. As in I'm yours, Jim, for better or worse. To have and to hold. Until you get tired of me." At Jim's raised eyebrow, Blair said seriously, "I would have said until death do us part, but that scares me, man, scares the shit out of me. You're a cop. You could be hurt or worse any time, any day." When Jim started to protest, Blair held up his hand. "Wait. While it scares me to think that could happen, do you know what scares me even more?"
"Tell me."
"Not being with you every day. Missing a minute of your life, of us being together. Letting my being worried that you'll get killed in the line of duty keep us apart. Every day is important. I want to be with you. Today, tomorrow and hopefully, for many years. So, I'm yours, if you want me."
Jim took Blair's hand in his. "I promise to do the best I can not to die on you, Chief."
"Good. I'll hold you to that."
"Ah, I was wondering... I'm not sure how to ask this and not sound -- out of line. I don't want to ruin things."
"Just ask, Jim. There isn't anything you can't ask me."
"About the story. The movie of the week and all that. All the footage you shot. Are you still going to put it all out in public? Some big exposé about the gay guy with the whacked-out senses. You know, like Barbara Walters. Hang all of my personal shit out there for everybody to poke fun at. It makes me look like a -- freak. Although I'm sure that kind of story would make you a lot of mon..."
Blair pressed his fingers over Jim's lips and looked directly into his troubled eyes. "Jim, you're rambling." With a serious face and a firm voice, he continued, "Listen, I know what a private man you are. I know how -- exposed you'd feel, so no, I'm not doing a big story about the small town gay sheriff with the hyperactive senses. What I'd like to do is help you learn to control them and I'd like to keep a journal about what we discover just in case, at some time in the future, I hear about anybody else having a condition like yours who might need help. Is that okay with you?"
Jim nodded, his eyes bright. "Better than okay. That's so..." With a grateful smile, he said, "Thank you."
"Sure, man. You just have to remember, Jim. I love you. All of you. Senses included. And you're not a freak. Not by a long shot. You're very special." Smiling, Blair added, "Guess I'd better just keep reminding you about that, huh?"
"I'd like you to be around to keep reminding me, Chief. About a lot of things." Jim swallowed around the lump in his throat and gave Blair an almost shy smile.
Returning Jim's smile with a happy, grin, Blair mused, "Now about a job..."
"I have a couple of ideas."
Blair snuggled back against Jim, who put his arm around Blair's shoulders so Blair could rest his head against Jim. "I love how you cuddle," he said softly, kissing the top of Blair's slightly damp head.
Blair sighed contentedly and slipped an arm around Jim's waist. "Me, too. I'm glad you're a cuddler, too. It's something I'm going to enjoy each and every day."
They sat in comfortable silence for a long while before Jim finally said, "Tell me what you think about this plan. You're a reporter."
"Good observation, Sheriff."
"Smart mouth. Shut up and listen."
"I'm listening."
"Okay. The local paper needs a reporter. The last guy left for a bigger beat in Spokane. It's only a weekly, but I think if you get that job then you could get another part time job with the sheriff's department. Carolyn's moving to Cascade with Rafe so her job is open. She was the main photographer and investigator for the coroner's office."
"Whoa. Coroner's office? As in dead people?"
Laughing, Jim nodded. "Wait a sec. We've had one murder in the past five years. Our shooter does things more along the line of traffic investigations and an occasional robbery. We have livestock thefts, the occasional camper lost in the woods, domestic violence, stuff like that. Clayton County is pretty quiet, but we do have crime. Somebody needs to take the pictures for evidence and shoot the scene after the cops secure it."
"Would I get to work with you?"
"I figure you'd help me with investigations. I go out on the calls and you come along. You'd have to go out with the other units once in a while. Anyway, you could shoot the pictures for the sheriff's office while you double as reporter. That way, you cover the crimes or traffic accidents or whatever for both at once. Between both jobs, you could make enough money to cover your expenses. Neither one is fancy, like the one you have now, but I was hoping you'd consider it."
"Actually, it sounds pretty good. I thought about moving up to a bigger market, but to tell you the truth, I'm not cut out for the big city. I'd love to move here to Clayton Falls. It's a nice community and besides, you're here. Plus, I actually have a couple of ideas for novels that I'm dying to write. I'd have time to pursue that if I moved here."
"So you'll think about it?"
"Tomorrow I'll talk to the paper. Who do I talk to at the sheriff's office?"
"You talk to me, Chief. And you're hired, as long as you know your way around a camera."
"Hell, man. I was a shooter for a year before I moved into investigative reporting."
"I happen to know that the paper would be happy to have a man with your reputation for reporting. I mentioned it to the owner last week and she's pretty excited to think you'd even think about it. Not many reporters move from a bigger market to a smaller one, especially one who's won a couple of awards for investigative reporting."
Blair chuckled. "You did investigate me, didn't you?"
Jim shrugged, trying for indifference but failing. "I was interested in you. I wanted to know more about you, and not because I was worried you were some arch-criminal. I wanted to know about Blair Sandburg, the man behind the camera. I saw the man in front of the camera in case you've forgotten. You irritated me for a week if I recall correctly."
Blair laughed deeply. "Oh, right. Well, it is my job. Besides, I always get my man." He glared lecherously at Jim.
Jim tugged on his ear, laughing. "I believe that's the phrase used by people who know nothing about Canadian Mounties, Chief, but I'm glad you always get your man. As long as this is the only man you ever 'get'." Jim patted his own chest.
Blair giggled and squeezed Jim's waist. "Trust me, Jim, I'll 'get' you yet. In fact, you probably won't be walking for at least a week when I'm through with you, so you might as well take a few of those sick days you have saved up."
"Oh, you think so, tough guy?" Jim laughed, happier than he ever thought possible. He kissed Blair's head again before he stopped and said, "Hey! Wait a sec. How do you know I have any sick days?"
At Blair's answering laugh, Jim's mouth fell open. "Why you little... You investigated me?"
Blair sat up and nodded happily. "Of course! After all, I had to know what kind of a guy you were. You know, behind the badge."
"You're in big trouble now." Jim reached for Blair's shirt, but Blair was quicker, scooting backwards and over the back of the sofa, out of Jim's long reach.
"Come on, Jim. It was an innocent investigation. I just wanted to know..." Blair ran from the living room and out into the kitchen with Jim right behind him. He skirted the kitchen table, laughing. "Have a heart. You investigated me! Fair's fair."
"No way, buddy boy. Nobody investigates the Sheriff of Clayton County."
Running back through the kitchen and into the dining room, Blair giggled louder. "Oh? You're some kind of what? Special guy? Just because you're..." He raced up the stairs and threw himself on the bed. "Uncle!" Blair cried, already conceding to Jim's advances, his breathing hampered by his recent run and the fit of giggles that overcame him. He spared a glance at Jim standing in the doorway, hands on hips, trying to look menacing. The scowl on Jim's face made him laugh harder.
"Laugh it up, fuzz ball," Jim growled.
"Oh, man. You're hilarious. I knew you'd be a lot of fun once you loosened up. It's a good thing I came along."
Jim stomped over to the bed and crossed his arms. "Good thing? You put my face on national television. You outed me at my own wedding! You call that a good thing?"
Blair laughed harder, nodding, long curls flying everywhere.
Jim rolled his eyes and soon he was laughing along with his lover. Flopping down next to Blair, Jim fingered the silky tendrils and tentatively sniffed the enticing fragrance of vanilla shampoo and Blair's own musky scent.
"So you admit it?" Blair asked. "It was a good thing?"
"I'm not admitting a thing, Chief. I'm pleading the fifth."
"This isn't a court of law, although I'd be more than happy if you'd arrest me. Where are those handcuffs anyway?"
"Blair!" Jim cried, shocked at the thought.
Laughing, Blair leaned over and kissed Jim's lips quickly and noisily, making Jim chuckle. "It's a good thing I like to investigate, Ellison," he said, planting another kiss. "Research is my middle name. You're going to love being the subject of a major project."
"So tell me why I'm going to enjoy this? Enlighten me, smart guy." Jim's eyes darkened and his heart rate quickened.
Blair scooted closer and placed his open hand on Jim's chest. "The first step of any good investigation is to decide on a topic." Blair's hand skimmed Jim's pecs. "I think I've settled on a subject. Then you have to refine the topic. That means general information, Jim," Blair leaned over and his tongue licked a waiting nipple, making Jim shiver. "The next thing is to have a research question." Blair kissed a trail across Jim's chest to the other nipple and gently nibbled.
"Blair!" Jim said hoarsely.
"Hmmm?"
"What's the question?"
Blair laughed. "How does a guy with hyperactive senses react to certain stimuli? Then you ask yourself, who else will care about this subject? Is it interesting? Will it make fascinating reading?" Blair's mouth laid a path down Jim's chest to his bellybutton. When Blair's tongue dipped in, Jim groaned.
"Is it interesting?" Jim asked breathlessly.
"Oh, definitely!"
"What's next?" Jim asked.
"Research, man. Lots of research. I have to take notes and pictures of the subject matter. Test different theories. Try the obvious and explore the unknown."
"Blair, you're driving me nuts," Jim whispered when Blair's nose nuzzled the skin right above his waistband. He clenched his fists around the sheets. "Obvious I get, but unknown? Such as?"
Blair chuckled and tugged down Jim's sweats. Yanking them over his feet, he tossed them onto the floor. Crawling between Jim's legs, he placed a warm kiss on the growing erection. "Then there's more research and outlining the research. That takes a while." A kiss on the head and a quick flick of the tongue followed. "Drafts are next. Lots of drafts. It could take quite a while, I'd say."
"Years?" Jim blurted out when Blair's tongue tickled along the underside of the crown.
"Oh, long, long years." Holding the base with a hand, Blair licked Jim's hard-on like a giant sucker, running his tongue over every millimeter.
"God, Chief," Jim hissed with pleasure. "I don't know if I can take much more research."
"Hell, Jim. I'm not done yet. I've barely begun."
"Good," Jim said firmly, making Blair laugh. The vibrations coursed through Jim's body, making him moan deeply. "Blair, please..."
"What? Oh, sorry. I got sidetracked. That's one of the reasons this investigation will take such a long time. I'll get off course a lot, Jim." Blair lowered his mouth on Jim's erection and sucked while his tongue flicked over the leaking head. When Jim's hips thrust upward, Blair opened his mouth to take in more of the hardness before he released the glistening organ. "See. Research. You liked that. I need to make a note."
Jim's eyes flew open and he lifted his head, giving Blair a surprised look. "Now? You're going to make notes now?" He looked so pathetic that Blair burst out laughing.
"Later, Jim. I'll make notes later. Right now I have more research to do."
"Oh, good," Jim said in a relieved voice.
"Besides, we have those new horizons to examine, remember? Those unknowns?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah, right. Such as?"
Blair sat up and gave Jim an innocent smile. "Hold that thought. Be right back."
"Chief?" Jim groaned. "What now?"
"Got to visit the boys' room."
"Okay. Hurry."
Blair practically leapt from the bed, raced out of the room and into the bathroom. Jim listened. He heard the toilet flush, heard the water running and then he heard the medicine cabinet open, followed by small sounds. Apparently, Blair was looking for something. Puzzled, he waited until he reappeared, holding a bottle of baby oil in his hand. He climbed back onto the bed and settled between Jim's outspread legs.
"Blair?"
"Research, remember?"
At Jim's nod, Blair poured a small pool of oil into the palm of his hand. He rubbed a finger into the liquid, liberally coating it. He raised his eyes from his task and met Jim's. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course. No question."
"Good. Now close your eyes and relax. I'm going to try an experiment."
Jim nodded. It was barely a moment later when he felt Blair's slippery finger touch the opening to his body.
"Jim?" Blair asked when he felt Jim's responding shudder. "Is this okay?"
"Feels -- funny. Good, but kind of..."
"I'll stop."
"No! No, go ahead." Jim blushed.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Feels good," Jim said as Blair's finger massaged the muscled ring gently before pushing the slippery digit inside.
When Jim shifted a bit, Blair put his free hand on Jim's belly. "Relax. I've never done this..." He pushed the finger in to the knuckle before pulling it out slowly. Again, he pushed in and pulled out. He started to thrust harder when Jim responded favorably, spreading his legs further apart and bearing down with a look of deep concentration on his face. Dribbling a little more of the oil on another finger, he inserted two and kept up a steady pace, delving deeper and deeper, until his fingers felt the hidden nub in his mate's body. Blair closed his eyes and used his fingertips to find and massage Jim's prostate.
Jim's eyes flew open when Blair touched something deep in his channel. When Blair's searching fingers sent waves of pleasure through his body, he put his hands behind his own knees and raised his hips, wantonly begging for more.
"Blair!" Jim cried. "More! God, Blair! Please..."
"What do you want, Jim?" Blair asked teasingly, stroking Jim's tight channel with his fingers while running his free hand lightly through Jim's pubic hair. "Tell me!" he cajoled, extremely pleased at Jim's reactions to his experimentation.
"More research!" Jim shouted, coming in thick, milky spurts over his belly. "Lots and lots more research!"
Laughing deeply, Blair complied.
The End.
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Author's Acknowledgements: A big thank you to Blue and Patt for the wonderful art. You've both made this story look very pretty! Thanks and hugs to DebraC and Ankaree for the beta work.
