M is for... by Ceares

M is for...
-- Prologue to Fall From Grace --
by Ceares

Rating: PG

Beta: Cinel, KimAnne

Illustration: Suse

Author's E-mail: Ceares@aol.com

Author's Webpage: None

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Blair balanced the sacks of take-out on top of the box of case folders, then balanced the whole thing on one knee while he worked the key out of his pocket. He bumped the door open, and staggered in, plopping the whole shebang on the counter with a sigh of relief.

Jim was standing out on the balcony, with the doors opened. "Hey man, why didn't you get the door? It's not like you couldn't smell your egg foo-yung a mile away."

There was no response. Jim didn't even acknowledge his presence. Blair felt his stomach drop, thinking his partner had zoned while he was gone. He shivered slightly at the cool air wafting in from the open doors, wondering how long Jim had been out there.

"Jim!" Still getting no response, Blair hurried onto the balcony. He put a hand on the other man's arm, and immediately felt the minute shivers. For some reason, Blair was certain it wasn't the temperature affecting his partner. "Babe?"

Anguished blue eyes met his. "This is all your fault."

The pain in the other man's eyes provoked an immediate response. Blair pulled his lover into his arms, cradling the larger man. "What happened?" Jim shook his head, clinging tightly to Blair a minute before he pulled away.

"My life used to be normal before you. No being almost flattened by garbage trucks, no Barbary Apes, no strays, no ghosts, no spirit animals."

Blair ignored his friend's words, lightly chaffing the other man's arms and trying to get him to focus. "Jim?"

"Now life is just one great big cosmic joke."

"What happened?" Blair tugged unobtrusively on Jim's arm now, guiding him into the loft and shutting the doors behind them. He pushed the unresisting man onto the sofa and knelt between his legs, hands resting on his denim-clad knees.

"Come on babe, tell me what's going on."

The slightly dazed look never left Jim's eyes as he spoke. "My mother called."

"What?" Of all the things Blair had been imagining, that would never have been one of them. It hadn't been that long since he'd found out, in the midst of one of their usual crises, that Jim even knew where Grace Ellison was.

"She called? Why... how...?"

Jim shook his head. "I have no idea, why don't you tell me. Is this some other lovely Sentinel benefit? Along with ghost spotting, and a psychic alarm, now I've got some kind of mental projection shit going on?"

"Come on man, you know I believe everything happens for a reason, but the timing, well, it's just a coincidence."

Jim snorted, the sound making him seem for the first time since Blair's return almost like his usual self. "A coincidence that after not even thinking of my mother in years, I mention her to you, and she calls?"

Blair had to admit it sounded strange -- well, it was strange, but with them, strange was a frequent visitor. "That's why it's called a coincidence, man. I mean, what were the chances that I'd be living next door to the drug lab that blew up, or that I'd be in the elevator that was taken hostage?"

"Gee, that reassures me."

Blair reached up, capturing Jim's chin in his hand. "What were the chances that I'd find you?"

"Yeah, and look where that got you."

Blair leaned forward and kissed Jim softly on the mouth. "Right where I want to be. This could be a good thing Jim, if you'd let it."

"This isn't some fairy tale where we see each other, burst into tears and fall into each other's arms, Chief."

"I know it's not, Jim, but if she wants to see you, it's a chance for you to find out if she knew about your senses when you were a kid, or find out why she left. A chance to get some closure."

"I'm closed Sandburg."

Blair sighed, dropping back on his heels. "Okay. So don't see her Jim, I'm not forcing you to."

They were both silent for a moment, Jim playing idly with Blair's curls. "You have to be here."

"What? No Jim, this is between you and your mother."

"Hey, we're a package deal, she might as well find out from the beginning. I don't want to hide us from her."

Blair looked thoughtful as he reached up and grabbed the hand tangled in his hair, sliding his fingers through Jim's. "You don't want to hide us, or you want to flaunt us?"

Jim shook his head. "No! I would never use us you like that. I just... I need you there, Chief."

"Okay so what am I cooking?"

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Red hair. Of course. What other color would Grace's hair be? Of all the women Jim had gotten involved with, dangerous and otherwise, it was the red-heads that seemed to lead him farthest astray. They seemed to trigger poor judgement and out-of-character behavior in the Sentinel. Boy, Freud could have made a career on the ins and outs of Jim Ellison. He glanced at Jim's mother's hair then back at Jim, eyebrows raised significantly. Jim frowned in confusion, and Blair sighed. Definitely a career.

"Mother, this is my..." Partner, friend, lover, guide, salvation. All of them described Blair, and not one said enough. "Blair."

Grace studied the two of them for a moment, and then she nodded and held out her hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Jim's Blair."

"Mrs. Ellison." Blair clasped the slender hand in his own, noting the faint tremble. He gave it a small, reassuring squeeze before letting go.

"Please, Grace."

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Blair served the meal, ignoring the tension that hovered over the table. "I have a really nice Merlot to go with this. Of course, Jim, heathen that he is, prefers beer. Which can I get for you Grace?"

She looked up from her intense contemplation of the brushed metal tabletop. "Actually, water's fine, thank you."

Blair set the glass of water in front of her, and she immediately reached for it, taking a large swallow. Unfortunately, her hand slipped slightly as she set it down again, knocking the glass, ice water and all, into Jim's lap.

The Sentinel jumped back, but it was too late to prevent being doused. "Sh..." Jim glanced up at his mother and cut off his expletive.

Grace covered her mouth with both hands, mortified. "Oh God! I'm sorry!" She grabbed her napkin and started sopping up the water. "Oh! I'm so clumsy. That's how I got my nickname Grace actually, because I was so totally lacking any as a child."

"It's okay, Grace." Blair grabbed a dishtowel and started on the water as well, while Jim headed upstairs to change. As soon as he was out of sight, the grin that Blair had been stifling burst out. Seeing it, Grace joined with one of her own. Soon they were both giggling as they cleaned up the water.

"I hear you two."

Jim's growl from above only made them laugh harder. Blair could see Grace relax somewhat as they worked together.

The difference in the mood was tangible when Jim came back down in fresh slacks. And though it wasn't exactly the Cleaver dinner table, it was okay. Especially after Blair started to entertain them with outrageous anecdotes from his undergrad days, some of which he blatantly made up. The tension eased a little more as the other two tried to figure out which stories were true.

Grace waited until the table was cleared and Blair had served coffee before she began. "I wanted to contact you and Stevie so many times over the years. I've kept up with what's been going on in your lives, you know."

Blair noticed Jim's fingers tighten around the handle of his cup, and he knew that the other man was thinking of the scrapbook he'd found in his father's house. It seemed yet another parent had been observing from afar, rather than participating in his life.

"Why didn't you? Why didn't you get in contact with us?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Yes I do. It was ego, I guess. There were all these things going on in your lives, and I didn't want to show up when things were going great for you, and be this hanger-on. To say I was the mother of the rising young executive, or the hero. I guess I kept waiting for one of you to need me. When this whole thing with your senses came out, I thought it was finally an opportunity to be there for you, but then Blair made his announcement." She glanced at Blair with a soft smile. "I realized that I'd be waiting around forever. I fixed it so that you wouldn't need me a long time ago."

Blair stood up to refill their cups. When he came back to the table, rather than sit down again, he stood behind Jim, hands on his shoulders in silent support.

"I don't know what, if anything William told you about what happened between us?" Jim shook his head. "Nothing. We just looked around one day and you were gone, and Sally told us you weren't coming back."

"Typical William. He always had the strong silent type down pat when it came to emotions. Not that what happened was his fault, I don't want you to think that." Grace took another sip of coffee. "I am an alcoholic."

She paused for a moment, allowing her announcement to sink in. "I don't know when it began, not really. I just know that I looked around one day, and realized that my life was all about the next drink. Sally was your mother, not me. Hell, she was practically Bill's wife as well. She was the one he talked to in the evenings when he got home from work. The one he shared his news with first, good and bad."

She looked away, staring out at the city. "I was just some woman who passed out upstairs in the master bedroom."

Jim flinched at the sadness in her voice, and at the vague memory that surfaced, of running upstairs with the A he'd made on his science test, only to have a bleary eyed Grace yell at him to get out. Sally was indeed the one who'd pinned the paper on the refrigerator, and the one who'd made it a point to tell his father about it that night. He leaned back against his partner. Blair, hands still resting on his shoulders, providing an anchor as always. "You don't have to tell me all this."

Piercing blue eyes turned back to his. "Even as a child Jimmy, you were unforgiving of anything you perceived as a betrayal. A trait you picked up from your father."

Her mouth quirked in a half-smile that reminded Blair quite forcefully of his partner. Unconsciously, he began to rub small circles on Jim's shoulders, trying to ease the tension that held the strong body taut.

Long, delicate fingers fiddled nervously with the handle of the coffee cup as Grace spoke again, eyes downcast, then up again and into her son's. "So yes, I do. I want you to know all of it, so there's no misunderstanding or confusion if you decide you want a relationship with me."

"I wish I could claim some grand tragedy or disfunction, but the truth is, I had everything. Two beautiful children, a husband that loved me, parents that spoiled me, friends that envied me. The truth is, I was bored, and three-martini lunches seemed the height of fun. Of course, in my case, they turned into martini breakfasts and dinners as well."

The sound of the clock ticking seemed overly loud to Blair's ears in the brief silence that followed, and he could only imagine what it sounded like to Sentinel ears.

"You have to realize that alcoholism was still in the closet, so to speak. And I was one of those nice, quiet drunks -- no public displays or self-embarrassment for me. We'd sit around and tsk about people like that, so it was easy for me to pretend that I didn't have a problem. After all, I wasn't one of them. Bill put up with it, with me, with far more patience than I deserved. One day he came home and Sally was out in the yard with you and Stevie. I'd locked her out of the house, but not before I fired her, because she got in the way of a blow I'd meant for Stevie when he spilled my drink.

"So, he got custody, and in return, I got a nice fat alimony check every month. I moved back in with my parents and began the cycle of on-the-wagon, off-the-wagon. Even then Bill tried to keep me in your lives. As long as my parents, or someone was going to be there, he'd let me take the two of you for the weekend, or when he went on business trips.

"Sometimes I'd be so drunk when the two of you came over, I wouldn't even remember you'd visited. Once, I'd promised him that I'd take the two of you when he went out of town. I cancelled at the last minute because I was in the middle of a major bender. After that it was less and less until finally it was never.

"It took me a long time to get sober; to realize what I'd lost, what I'd given up. By that time you and Stevie had your lives, and like I said, I guess I just kept waiting around, hoping there'd be a place for me in them."

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"Thank you, for listening to me. I'm hoping Stevie will be as generous."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to meet with you when he gets back."

Grace nodded, then opened her mouth to speak. She closed it again without saying anything, and reached for her coat, which Jim quickly took from her and helped her into.

Blair stood to the side, watching as mother and son said awkward goodbyes. Miss Manners didn't exactly cover the etiquette involved in a situation like this, and a quick, desperate glance from Jim pulled him into the fray.

He moved forward, and took Grace's hands in a warm clasp. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Grace."

A warm smile flashed, and two pairs of blue eyes viewed him with gratitude. "Thank you. It was truly a pleasure to meet you as well, Blair."

Another minute passed and Blair stifled an inward sigh. "Maybe you could join us again for dinner sometime?"

"I'd like that, but please, this time you have to let me host." Another smile, this one somewhat relieved.

"We're due for a long weekend in a couple of weeks."

Grace nodded. "That sounds good." She looked around for a moment. "Well, I'd better be going. It's getting pretty late."

Blair nudged Jim, who had remained silent. "I'll ah, walk you to your car."

The two Ellisons left, still with an awkward silence lingering between them, and Blair was sure the walk down the parking lot would seem double the distance.

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"So?"

"So. That's my mother."

"And?"

"And, at this point I really don't know how I feel about it Chief. About the things she said. About her drinking, about my father. It's a lot to absorb."

Blair nodded. "I know, and I know there's no way to fix 20 years in a few hours, but it's a start right?"

Jim looked thoughtful for minute. He rinsed another plate and set it in the drying rack. "Yeah Chief, I think it is."

Blair nodded. "Good." He leaned against the counter watching Jim do dishes in silent affection.

"Hey Chief?"

"Yeah?"

"Normal is highly over rated."

Blair smiled. "Yeah, I love you too."

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Author's E-mail: Ceares@aol.com
Author's Webpage: None

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Fall From Grace, Part 1
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