The Great Valentine Caper

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Jim Ellison was in a particularly nasty mood. It wasn't bad enough that it was Monday and the weather had been unpleasantly cold, wet and dreary, even by Cascade standards. Nope, he'd gotten to spend the morning in an overheated courtroom with a bunch of sweaty lawyers. He thought he'd gotten a lucky break when the judge called a recess and the DA said he wouldn't be needed for two days, but when he went back to Major Crime, he found the whole department had gone insane.
Because of the nasty weather, even the criminals were staying indoors, so Major Crime was enjoying a lull. Paperwork was completed, old cases were closed and filed, people were actually going home on time. Apparently, the lack of stress had fried a few circuits. It was the only thing he could attribute it to. Because there were little lacy hearts and cut out cupids stuck to all the desks. Even his.
Rhonda usually did some kind of little decoration thing at her desk. She had a bunch of different candy dishes, and she would put out whichever was appropriate for the occasion, maybe some flowers, but this was way over the top. He stalked to his desk, ripped the decoration off his desk and hurled it in the trash.
He sat down, ignoring the fact that everyone in the department had stopped what they were doing and were staring at him. He grabbed one of the files he needed to check and opened it. The bullpen was still silent. He looked up, glaring at the half dozen people who were still gaping at him. They immediately found things to do.
Though he tried to tune out the activity around him, he couldn't help overhearing the conversations surrounding him.
"Jesus. What's got him all pissed off?" Rafe was talking, to Brown, he supposed.
"He was in court all morning." Yep, It was Brown. H continued, "and Hairboy isn't here today. Didn't he say something on Friday about a big meeting today?"
He was perfectly aware of Blair's absence, of the sense of incompleteness he felt today, and he did not want to analyze it. He jerked his thoughts back to his file, but soon found his attention wandering again.
"...wasn't in Major Crime then, either, but I've heard he was a grumpy sonofabitch all the time back then." Not Joel, too.
"Maybe he's just got a touch of cabin fever." Connor didn't sound terribly convinced. "Well, Sandy will be in tomorrow, he'll make sure Jim stays half-way civilized." Great. The whole department thinks he needs a keeper. And, damn it, Connor knew he could hear her remarks, too.
He shut the file he was looking at, and shoved it back into the stack on his desk. Obviously, he wasn't going to get any work done, and he know if he stayed around, he was just going to end up saying something he would regret. He stood up, glared at everyone, grabbed his coat, and left.
He was half way home when he realized he hadn't told Simon he was leaving, so he left a message on his voicemail. It wasn't his night to cook, but he had plenty of time, so he decided to swing by the store and get the fixings for lasagna.
If anything, his mood was worse by the time he left the grocery store. In addition to the tinny piped in music, and a riot of conflicting scents, almost every aisle had some sort of idiotic hearts and flowers display, from cheesy statuettes and plaques, to particularly noxious colognes. The checkouts were crowded with tacky stuffed animals and heart shaped balloons. It was all somehow depressing, that an acceptable method of expressing true love was via a stuffed mouse in red satin boxers that said "I wuv you". It gave him a headache.
When he got home, he put the groceries away, and concentrated on making dinner. The orderly transformation of raw ingredients into his favorite dish was very soothing, and by the time the lasagna was baking in the oven, he felt much more relaxed. He noticed the flashing light on the answering machine, so he got himself a beer from the fridge, and then he checked the messages.
"Detective Ellison, this is Margaret Lancer from the DAs office..." Confirmation that he didn't have to be back in court until Thursday. That was good.
"Hi, this is Sylvie from Blue River Books. We just received a copy of...." The used book store for Blair. He wrote down the information as the message played.
"Hey, Jim. I know it's my night to cook, but Corrie needs my help tonight, and she promised to feed me dinner. I'll make dinner tomorrow, okay? I shouldn't be home too late. I'll talk to you later, man. Bye."
Jim's appetite fled. He'd been looking forward to having dinner with Blair all day, and he was off with Corrie again. Shit. He was really starting to hate Corrie.
He'd only met her once. She was an old friend of Blair's, from their undergrad days, and she'd just relocated to Cascade. She was an Archeologist, and had taken a job at the Natural History Museum. Blair had been delighted when she called, and over the last few weeks, had spent a lot of time with her. He'd met her when she came by the station to take Blair to lunch.
Corrie, or Corrine Barrett, as she had introduced herself, was very unlike Blair's usual choice in female companionship. She was petite, barely five feet tall, and not conventionally pretty. But she had an amazing amount of personality packed into her tiny frame, and the effect was dazzling. He disliked her immediately, although he'd done his best to hide it. He suspected he hadn't been terribly successful, because Blair never invited her to the loft. Since Corrie came back, Blair was -- different. He seemed more relaxed, and he laughed more. It hurt, that she could give Blair that, and he couldn't. Instead of being happy for his friend, it had been all he could do not to run a background check on her so he could find some way of getting her out of Blair's life. He was being territorial, and possessive, and he knew it. But he still hated every minute Blair spent with Corrie.
His only hope came from the fact that Blair was not sleeping with her. At least not yet. He'd noticed that Blair wasn't flirting as much as he used to, in fact lately, he didn't seem to flirt at all. But unless he kept a complete set of duplicate toiletries at Corrie's house, and showered and blow-dried his hair each time, they weren't having sex.
And the fact that he was obsessing over this enough to notice made his headache come back full force. He took a couple of aspirin, and grabbed another beer. He attempted to watch the Jags game, but by eight-thirty, he gave up. He put the untouched lasagna in the fridge, took a shower, flipped on his white noise generator, and by nine-fifteen, he was in bed.

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The first thing he noticed when he woke was the absence of his guide's heartbeat. He panicked for a moment, then remembered the white noise generator. He turned it off, and there it was, the familiar lub-dub of Blair's heart, right where it was supposed to be. Then, he noticed the time. Shit! He had been so busy feeling sorry for himself last night he forgot to set the alarm. He was supposed to be at the station in less than an hour.
By limiting Blair to ten minutes in the shower, dashing madly through the morning routine, and skipping breakfast, they were in the truck and on the road at their regular time. Jim's headache from last night had returned with a vengeance, but Blair was remarkably cheerful.
"Man, I had the best time last night! After I helped Corrie set up the new exhibit -- did I tell you her assistant broke his leg? Anyway, I got a behind the scenes tour of the museum. They have some fascinating South American artifacts in storage, at least from an anthropological viewpoint -- they aren't something that attracts a lot of interest from laypersons. I totally lost track of time..."
"Breathe, Chief." Jim steadfastly ignored the sense of relief he felt, knowing Blair had spent most of his time actually working.
"Sorry." Blair's grin said he wasn't. "Guess I'm just in a good mood today. Hey, Corrie gave me two tickets to the gala opening on Friday. Would you like to come with me? I know you hate the whole monkey suit scene, but the exhibit is really wonderful." Blair was wearing his most hopeful expression, the one Jim found so hard to resist.
A call on the radio spared Jim from answering. "All units, we have a report of a jumper on Interstate 5 at the Martin Avenue overpass. Please respond."
"Dispatch, this is Echo seven. We are en route, ETA five minutes."
They arrived to find a crowd of people, which was pretty amazing considering the miserable weather. They were watching a young man clinging to the outside of the barrier fence. The man, however, had no intention of jumping.
"Wow. Am I glad to see you guys! My line is snagged, and I am totally tangled up. Can you give me a hand?"
It didn't take Jim long to figure out that this was a job for the rescue squad. While he called dispatch and explained what they needed, Blair chatted with the trapped man. When Jim came back, he introduced them. "Jim, this is Mark Stanley. Mark, Detective Jim Ellison."
"Mr. Stanley, would you care to explain how you came to be hanging off the overpass this morning?" Jim was all business, acting as if there was nothing in the least bit unusual about talking to a man hanging off an overpass in the middle of a rainstorm.
"It's Twyla, my girlfriend. She drives this freeway every morning on the way to work. And tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and I wanted to do something special. That's when I thought up the banner."
"The banner?" Blair prompted, fascinated.
"Yeah. I made a huge banner -- Twyla will you marry me -- and I was gonna hang it here so she could see it. Only I got tangled up in one of the lines, and well, you know..."
"Mr. Stanley, you do realize that hanging things off of overpasses is illegal?"
"If she'll marry me, it's worth it!"
He was very happy to see the rescue squad. He and Blair left the lovesick Romeo to the Fire Department's care, and the waiting uniformed officer who would see to it that he was appropriately cited. They slogged through the rain back to the truck and on to the station
The case set the tone for the day, however. No sooner than they'd returned to the station than they were sent out on another call, this one to the Cascade Zoo. The koala enclosure had been broken into, and two of the koalas were missing.
Jim was half expecting a hoax, but the call was legitimate. Upon arriving at the zoo they were met by a distressed young staffer, who escorted them to the Koala enclosure. The zookeeper who had discovered the missing animals was there, as was the Koalas principal keeper.
"I'm Detective Ellison, this is Blair Sandburg, my partner. I understand you have some missing animals?"
"They've been stolen!" The koala keeper, an attractive blond thirtysomething woman, was bordering on hysterics. "You must find them, it's terribly dangerous."
Sandburg escorted her to a nearby bench, soothing her, allowing Jim to examine the scene and question the other zookeeper. He examined the Koala House carefully. It was obvious from the shattered glass beneath the skylight in the work area how the thief or thieves gained entry.
The other zookeeper, a young man who barely looked old enough to be out of school, answered his questions. Jim was busy examining the scene, and did not notice the appreciative way the younger man eyed him.
"Is there an alarm system for the enclosure? And where are the tapes for those security monitors?" He indicated the cameras on the exterior corners of the enclosure.
"We don't have an alarm for this enclosure, and the security monitors are in the main office."
"Did you notice anything unusual this morning?"
"I'm sorry detective, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until I came inside to feed them."
"There's no way they could have escaped?"
"Not really. They can't access that skylight, even if they could get out from the living quarters. And it's much too cold out for them to be outside."
"Why would anyone want to steal a koala? Are they particularly valuable?"
"Only to a zoo. They are considered a threatened species in the wild. I suppose someone might try to acquire them to breed them, but they took the two animals out of the habitat closest to the door, and both the missing animals are female." He smiled at Jim, as if inviting him to share the joke.
"They may look cuddly, but they are incredibly difficult to care for. They are often nasty tempered, and can do some damage with their claws." Jim was oblivious to the younger man's inviting smile.
"Thank you, Mr. Johnston." He handed him his card. "Feel free to call me if you think of anything else." Forensics arrived, and he directed them to a few fiber samples he'd spotted in the skylight frame, and went to find his partner
He found Blair with the koala keeper, comforting her as she cried into his shoulder. He pried his partner away from the weeping woman, and dragged him to the main office to collect the security tapes. So much for Corrie. The blond zookeeper had been all but sitting in Blair's lap, and he didn't seem to mind a bit.
As they headed back to the truck, Blair shared some of the information he'd gotten from the distraught koala keeper. "She's really freaking out over this, those koalas are her babies. They have to be kept in a climate controlled environment, they don't have a lot of tolerance for extreme temperatures." He was obviously fascinated by his subject since he had the little bounce in his step he got when he was excited. "And get this man, they don't drink! They get all the water they need from the leaves they eat, and they only eat leaves from a few specific kinds of Eucalyptus trees! Dierdre says the one of the koalas is really old, and medically fragile, and she's afraid it will die from shock."
Jim watched Blair as he spoke, enjoying the flow of expressions across his face. He totally blanked on the Dierdre he referred to, but he realized she must be the koala keeper.
"So, Steve Irwin," referring to the famous Australian naturalist, "any ideas where we go to find stolen koalas? I doubt if we'll find them auctioned on eBay."
Blair just looked at him speculatively. "You never know, man, you never know."

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By the time they got back to the station, Blair had come up with a plan. "We definitely need the media on this." Rushing onward before Jim had a chance to protest, "I agree with you that this smacks of being an amateur job. So you gotta figure this guy has no idea how to take care of these animals. We let him know how difficult they are to handle, give out a hot line number, and maybe he'll call, or somebody who knows he has them will call. We don't have a lot of time, Dierdre says that between the cold, and their special diet, they only have a couple of days before it's too late."
While Jim reviewed the security tapes, Blair coordinated the media announcements with the Zoo. The tapes were not terribly high quality, and all he could discern from last night's tape was that the thief was wearing black pants and a black coat, and had on a stocking cap that covered his hair. His face never showed. Although the figure was well bundled against the cold, he got the impression that he was thin, and not any taller than Blair. The previous day's tape yielded a bit more information, because two adolescent males spent a lot of time at the Koala Exhibit, and something about the way the skinny one moved convinced him that this was the thief on the tape.
By now, Jim's headache had returned in force. Blair had gone out and picked them up some sandwiches, but Jim's stomach rebelled at the thought of food. Between Blair's plan and his findings, Jim spent the rest of afternoon in the bullpen, reviewing mug shots of known juvenile offenders, and fielding "koala spotting" calls, most of which were from total crackpots. To compound the misery of mugshots and crackpots, the rest of Major Crime seemed to be suffering from cupid induced psychosis. Brown was freaking out about the romantic getaway he had planned with his lady, while Rafe was stressing out over his dinner plans with his new girlfriend.
He inadvertently listened in while Rhonda described to Megan in explicit detail exactly what she had planned for her husband. Jim blushed deeply red, and formed a new respect for her husband's stamina, and Rhonda's inventiveness. Megan merely mentioned that she had dinner plans with Max, but Jim almost fell out of his chair when he caught just enough of a phone conversation to realize that Max was female.
Even Simon was affected, cornering Joel for an in depth analysis of Jazz clubs in Cascade, since only the best would do for his date with C.J. After the 'Max' phone call, Jim decided he did not want to go there.
Blair wasn't any help as a voice of reason, because in between the crackpot calls, he was on the phone to Dierdre, who wanted constant updates. The constant pounding in Jim's head was becoming unbearable, so he opened the desk drawer and dug around for the aspirin bottle he kept there. He fumbled with the bottle, and was rather startled to realize his hands were shaking. The bottle slipped out of his grip, skittered across the desk, and landed at Blair's feet.
The clatter of the aspirin bottle landing at his feet distracted Blair from his call. He took one look at Jim, and ended the call. "Jesus, man, why didn't you say something?" He quickly opened the aspirin and handed Jim two, and gave him the last of his water to wash them down with. He altered his voice to a more soothing tone. "Close your eyes, and take slow deep breaths. I want you to concentrate on breathing, and I'm going to let Simon know we're leaving. I'll be right back."
Jim closed his eyes and waited. He tracked Blair into Simon's office, and then to Connor's desk, where they had a hurried conversation. It took too much energy to listen to the actual words, so he just concentrated on the soothing cadences of his voice. Blair returned, and with more gentle murmurs and soothing strokes, helped Jim into his coat, and deftly snagged his keys.
"Okay, keep your dials down as much as you can, and open your eyes. We're gonna walk to the elevator."
Jim nodded, and opened his eyes. The fluorescent lights hurt, but he stood up anyway. He swayed a bit, but Blair was at his side, and supported him until he got his balance. Blair stayed by his side, allowing Jim to lean on him in the elevator.
"I'm sorry, Jim. I should've been paying more attention, I know those tapes can give you a headache." The remorse in Blair's voice would have been obvious even to a non-sentinel.
"Not your fault, Chief." He gave the sturdy shoulder a squeeze. "You had work to do, too."
By the time they got home, the combination of aspirin and Blair's presence had eased his headache quite a bit. Blair had Jim sit and relax on the sofa, while he went into the kitchen and made tea. It was very comforting to listen to Blair moving about in the kitchen, and he could feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders relax. He drank the tea Blair brought to him as Blair recounted the more entertaining calls he'd taken that afternoon. He felt a bit lightheaded, but the headache had just about disappeared.
"Hey, man, you hungry? I'm supposed to cook, right, what do you want for dinner?"
It occurred to Jim that he hadn't gotten around to eating today, and for that matter, most of yesterday. No wonder he felt spacey. "There's lasagna in the fridge."
"Cool." As he headed for the kitchen, he continued to talk. "So, Jim, about Friday. Listen if you don't want to go, don't sweat it. I can see if Dierdre wants to come..."
At the mention of Dierdre, Jim saw red. Blair flirted with Dierdre. It was bad enough when he spent all his free time with Corrie, but this, "Like hell, Sandburg. No way I'm letting you go sniffing around some cheap blond, or hurt Corrie like that."
"I thought you didn't like Corrie, Jim?"
"I don't. But at least you aren't sleeping with Corrie."
"And that matters?" Blair asked, very softly.
Jim's brain finally caught up with his mouth, and he realized what he had revealed. "Oh, fuck." Escape, escape, his brain commanded, so he complied. Well, he tried to. Instead, when he stood up, the world spun in sickening circles. He swayed for a couple of moments, and everything went black.

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The first thing he noticed was the feeling of security. Blair's heartbeat was right under his ear. His scent surrounded him. Strong arms held him close, and rubbed soothing circles on his back. He opened his eyes to see the back of the sofa. He was sprawled across Blair, pinning him to the sofa, while his feet were trailing on the ground. Blair was murmuring into the top of his head, and he listened -- it sounded like a litany of insults about sentinels in general, and him in specific, but that couldn't be it, because the tone was so gentle and loving.
He was very comfortable, and he didn't want to move, but he wasn't sure why he had Blair pinned to the sofa, so he had to ask. "Chief?" The soothing circles stopped. "What happened?"
Both men shifted until they were sitting on the sofa, Jim against one corner, and Blair half-turned to face him. "Jim, why does it matter if I'm sleeping with Corrie?"
The last few minutes came rushing back to Jim. He blushed vividly, and looked away from Blair. He desperately scrambled around for an answer, one that would not disgust Blair, not chase him away... but he drew a total blank.
"Jim." Blair laid one hand on his leg. "Look at me."
Jim took a deep breath, and looked at him. He saw no disgust, no condemnation, not even pity, only the same look of affection he was used to. The strange weight in his chest eased a bit. He was completely unaware of the dawning expression of hope on his face.
"I'm going out on a limb, here, Jim, and I'm guessing you don't want me to sleep with Corrie."
He nodded.
Blair scooted a little closer. "And you really don't want me to sleep with Dierdre."
Jim nodded more vigorously.
Blair scooted closer, until he was pressed up against Jim. "In fact, I think you don't want me to sleep with anyone at all."
Jim curled his arms around him, and pulled him into his lap. "Only me, Chief," he rasped. He leaned in until his lips hovered above Blair's. "Only me." Blair didn't wait for him to make the last move, he pressed his lips to Jim's, and kissed him as if his life depended on it.
Jim yielded immediately, parting his lips for Blair's probing tongue. His hand slid up his back, and buried themselves in Blair's hair as he returned the kiss. Eventually, the need for oxygen forced them apart. Jim loosened his grip on Blair's hair, and allowed him to settle more comfortably in his lap. They cuddled together for a little while, until Jim's stomach rumbled loudly, and reminded Blair of the earlier events
"Jim, when was the last time you ate?"
He thought for a minute, "I had breakfast yesterday," he offered.
"Idiot." The insult was lovingly bestowed. "No wonder you had a headache and passed out." He planted a quick kiss on Jim's forehead, clambered off his lap and headed straight for the kitchen. "You can't ignore your body like that, man. I swear, you need a keeper."
Jim just laughed. "I have one."
Blair reheated the lasagna, and tossed together a quick salad. Jim tried to help, but Blair sat him down at the table with a glass of fruit juice. "I don't need you keeling over in the middle of the kitchen."
The juice did help, and Jim felt a bit less fuzzy by the time dinner was ready. Blair dished up the food, and they dug in with gusto. Blair brought up the previous topic of conversation. "About Corrie..." He watched in amazement as Jim shifted into his stonefaced-cop mode. "Jim, relax. Corrie is not a threat -- she's just a friend. Her husband is a friend, too."
"She's married?"
"I know I told you I went on the expedition with Corrie and Pete. She married Pete."
"Oh."
"He's coming back from New Guinea in a few more weeks. He's going to take a position at Rainer. Corrie's been pretty lonely, and she likes spending time with me cause I don't mind when she talks about Pete." He gave Jim a flirtatious look from under his lashes. "I like spending time with her because she doesn't mind when I talk about you."
Jim smiled at Blair, a sweet and rather goofy smile. Blair wanted him. Everything was great.
After they ate, they put away the leftovers, and washed dishes in companionable silence, working smoothly together with the ease of long practice. Jim was putting the dishes away when the phone rang. It was Dierdre. Jim felt his good mood evaporating. He grabbed a beer, and stalked over to the sofa. He resolutely turned his hearing down, so he couldn't hear the conversation. Blair might prefer him to Corrie, but the zookeeper, well, she was tall, blond, pretty and female, just Blair's type. She probably wasn't anywhere near as fucked up as he was, but he wouldn't, couldn't, give Blair up without a fight. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Blair flopped down next to him, interrupting his mental list of methods to get rid of a zookeeper and make it look like an accident.
"Hey!" He juggled his beer for a moment, trying not to spill it. Blair snagged it, and took a long swallow.
"Sorry, man. She won't call back tonight. I know she's worried, but, jeez, she needs a hobby."
"I thought you wanted to take her to the museum on Friday." Damn, he hadn't meant to say that. He sounded like a jealous lover.
"I want to take you. I thought you didn't want to go, and it would give you an easy out." He took another swallow of Jim's beer, then gave it back to Jim. "So, Jim, does this mean you're going to be a jealous, possessive lover?"
Slightly embarrassed by his primitive streak, Jim nodded.
"Good. I think I'm going to be a possessive lover, too." He pulled Jim toward him, and kissed him thoroughly. "In fact, I'm feeling very possessive right now. Would you like a demonstration?" Jim nodded again. He drained the rest of his beer in one swallow. He noticed that it tasted slightly of Blair. His cock twitched in approval. Blair removed the beer bottle from his grasp, and set it on the coffee table, not bothering with a coaster.
Blair stood and reached out a hand to Jim. "Let's go upstairs."
Jim grabbed his hand, and let Blair haul him to his feet. He felt a bit shaky again, but this time, he was trembling from desire, and only Blair could feed his hunger. As he followed Blair, his mind roamed freely among the possible demonstrations Blair could give.
Jim blinked at the realization that he was in his bedroom. At some point, Blair had turned on the stereo, so music played softly downstairs. He had also turned off the lights, so the room was lit only by the gentle glow of the bedside lamp. Blair was sitting on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes.
"Why don't you take your clothes off?"
Blair worded it as a request, but Jim could not resist. With shaking hands, he pulled off his sweater, and then the t-shirt he wore underneath it. He neatly folded both garments, and set them on the chair. Blair chuckled, but said nothing, so he continued. He toed off his shoes, and quickly removed his pants, hanging them over the chair. He reached down to remove his socks.
"Stop. Come here."
Jim stood upright, and walked over to the bed wearing only his boxers and socks. Blair had not been idle while Jim was undressing. He, too, had shed clothes; Blair had stripped down to only his jeans, the outline of his erection clear against the soft, faded fabric. There was a small damp patch at the head of his penis, and Jim shuddered at the visible proof of Blair's desire. He stood, trembling, between Blair's legs.
Blair looked up at Jim, eyes almost black in the soft light. He reached out, and cupped Jim's ass with his hands. "Mine," he said, as he squeezed his ass cheeks firmly. Jim shuddered again and nodded. Blair carefully slid Jim's boxers over his erection and down his legs. With gentle pressure on the back of first one leg, then the other, he had Jim step free of the garment.
As Jim stood almost naked in front of Blair, he could have felt ridiculous and vulnerable. But Blair was looking at him with such hunger and need, he felt only proud that he could please his lover.
"Lay down, Jim."
Jim did what he was told and Blair knelt between his legs. Blair reached out and stroked his right leg, and pulled off the sock, massaging his foot has he did so, and then repeated the action on the left side. Jim sighed in pleasure.
"God. You're -- magnificent." Blair didn't have to be a sentinel to see Jim blush. "I want to know what pleases you. Show me what you want."
Jim's eyes flew open and he looked down at Blair. He couldn't mean...
"Touch yourself, love. I want to watch you come."
"Oh, god." Jim had to bite his lip to keep from coming simply from the sound of Blair's voice. Once he had control of himself again, he looked at Blair. Jim could smell the desire pouring off of him, and the scent of pre-cum as it further dampened his jeans. Blair looked back, naked hunger on his face. If it was what Blair wanted, he would show Blair exactly what he liked.
He slid one hand across his chest, pausing to play with first one nipple, then the other. Blair licked his lips, and scooted closer. Jim rubbed his hands down his torso, stroking and caressing himself. He teased Blair and himself, caressing hands coming close to, but not touching his aching cock.
He trailed his fingers through the sticky liquid where his cock had leaked on his abdomen, and then sucked his fingers into his mouth. Blair groaned, so Jim dabbed his fingers through the liquid again, and this time, held them out to Blair.
Jim maintained eye contact as Blair sucked on his fingers, one by one, his tongue swirling around each finger, wetting them thoroughly, and then licked his palm. Jim pulled his saliva-slick hand back, and wrapped it around his erection.
"Blair," he groaned as though it were Blair touching him. He stroked, slowly at first, but he was so aroused and he wanted it so bad, he soon sped up his stroke. He tried to keep looking at Blair, but his eyes closed involuntarily. "Chief, Blair," he tried to warn him, "I'm gonna..." He felt Blair change position. He forced his eyes open to find Blair kneeling above him on hands and knees, tantalizingly close.
"Blair," he gasped. Blair captured his lips, and anything else he tried to say was lost in the fierce kiss. It was too much sensation for Jim, he arched up into Blair as wave after wave of pleasure crested over him. Hot semen splattered onto his chest as he came, as well as hitting Blair's chest and jeans. His cock gave a final twitch, sending one last dribble of come over his hand.
Blair leaned back onto his heels. "God. Jim, that was beautiful. Thank you." Sitting in the golden lamplight, spattered with come, lips swollen from kissing, he looked like a debauched angel. Jim had to agree.
"Mmhmm. Beautiful."
Blair laughed. He grasped Jim's sticky hand, and brought it to his lips, and licked it clean. The sheer eroticism of the act made Jim shudder, and his spent cock gave a small twitch, interested, even if it couldn't yet act on that interest.
Blair slid off the bed and stripped out of his wet jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear, and Jim shuddered again; Blair was still very much aroused. Jim took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of a naked Blair. Blair was very definitely male. Although not as muscular as Jim, he was sturdily built, and lightly defined. He was nicely furred on his chest, and it tapered down to a thick arrow of hair that drew the eye to his cock. Whatever Blair lacked in height, he made up for in length, being generously endowed. Jim's cock managed another very interested twitch.
Blair climbed back onto the bed, and crawled up Jim so he was kneeling above him again. "Now, love, I'm going to show you what a possessive lover I can be. Would you like that?"
"Yes, please!"
Blair laughed again, then proceeded to kiss Jim into silence. He plundered his lips, and nibbled at his ears. He sucked on his neck at the junction of his shoulder, leaving a vivid passion mark in his wake. He kissed his way across the smooth expanse of Jim's chest, lingering a while to compare the responsiveness of each nipple. Blair nibbled his way down his abdomen, teasing Jim by running his tongue along the ridges of his abs.
Jim wanted to shout or scream, or make some sound, but all he could manage was a breathless moan.
Blair paused, and looked down at Jim with a predatory smile. "Would you like more?"
Jim nodded vigorously.
"I'll bet you're always prepared, aren't you, love?" Blair rummaged in the nightstand for a moment, coming up with a condom and a tube of lube. Jim was fascinated by this masterful, commanding Blair. He was normally the aggressor, with both men and women, but he was very much enjoying this different turn of events. He wanted to tell Blair this, to signify his approval, but his tongue wouldn't cooperate, he could only manage another moan.
Fortunately, Blair was fluent in Jimspeak. "You like this, Jim. You want me inside of you, don't you?" Again, Jim nodded. Blair proceeded to demonstrate just how well he knew Jim, kissing and caressing him, keeping him aroused as he slowly prepared Jim.
"Please, Blair, please." Jim was all but begging when Blair finally relented. He carefully placed a pillow under Jim's hips, then knelt between his legs, and slowly rolled the condom onto his erection, and generously lubed it up. Jim watched hungrily. Carefully, Blair placed the head of his penis against the entrance to Jim's body, and pressed slowly in.
Jim breathed slowly in and out, making himself relax despite the slight discomfort of penetration. Soon, Blair was all the way in. He could feel Blair's pulse beating inside him, being a part of him, and he was almost lost in the sensation, but Blair was right there, whispering in his ear, telling him to stay, telling him how good he felt.
Jim turned his head so he could kiss Blair deeply. As his lover started to move their tongues dueled as Blair slid in and out. Blair altered his angle slightly, and a spike of pure pleasure jolted through him. He cried out, and Blair repeated the action. He blindly reached out, caressing whatever part of Blair he could reach, as Blair continued to stroke into him.
Jim's breath came in gasps, and he could hear Blair panting from the exertion of pounding into him. It felt so good, he was going to die, or explode, or... something. He could feel Blair's balls tighten as they slapped against his ass, and knew his lover was going to come soon. Blair's hand closed over his erection, and he shouted and arched up as his orgasm took him violently. His ass clenched around Blair's shaft, and Blair stiffened, his thrusts losing their rhythm. "Jim," he shouted, and he pumped frantically into him as he came.
Blair collapsed onto Jim's chest, and Jim wrapped him in his arms and held him close as they came down. Eventually, Blair softened and slid out of Jim, and he made a soft sound of loss. Jim could feel the come drying on his belly, and it was starting to itch. He didn't want to move, didn't want to disturb Blair, but he knew they would sleep better if they cleaned up a little.
"Hey, Chief. You need to let me up."
Blair made a protesting sound and snuggled closer.
"Come, on, Chief, we're gonna fuse together like this."
Blair rolled off of Jim onto his back. He was sticky and sweaty and he looked well loved. Jim thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight.
He was surprised when Blair followed him down to the bathroom. Jim got a washcloth, washed the semen and lube off his belly and thighs, and rinsed it off. Blair had been waiting patiently for his turn to wash, and seemed startled when Jim took the cloth and gently cleaned him. Jim kissed him on the forehead, and tossed the cloth into the hamper.
As Jim checked the locks and turned off the stereo, he could hear Blair brushing his teeth. He handed him a glass of water as he stepped out of the bathroom, and by the time Blair rinsed the glass and set it on the drainer, Jim was finished with his teeth, too. He exited the bathroom to find Blair by the door to his room, looking uncertain. "Coming, Chief?" he offered casually, and Blair hurried up the stairs behind him.
They straightened the covers before climbing into bed, then Jim turned out the light. He reached out and pulled Blair close, spooning up behind him, Jim kissed him softly on the cheek. "Love you, Chief."
Jim heard Blair's heart skip a beat at the sound of the words he'd wanted to say for so long. He could almost feel the emotion pouring off of his lover. Blair's throat worked, but no sound emerged. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Love you, too, Jim. Always." He snuggled into Jim's arms, and they drifted off to sleep.

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They were awakened at barely five a.m. by a call from the station. The "Great Koala Caper," as Blair had dubbed it, was solved. They received a call from an irate grandmother around two a.m. Her fourteen-year-old grandson and one of his buddies had taken the koalas to give as presents to their girlfriends. She wanted those "nasty creatures" out of her basement, and she wanted them out now.
They 'raided' the house just after six a.m. Dierdre was ecstatic at the return of her babies; though chilled, they seemed none the worse for wear. The boys were turned over to the Juvenile authorities. Since neither kid had a prior record and the animals were unharmed, it looked like they would be facing probation and restitution. All in all, Jim was pretty well satisfied.
Jim and Blair stopped for breakfast on the way back to the station. They indulged themselves with waffles and eggs and played footsie under the table. The rain let up for a while, and they even saw a glimpse of the sun as they drove to the station. Blair had his bounce back, and aside from the need to exercise a bit of caution when he sat down, Jim felt terrific.
He was in a good mood when he stepped off the elevator into Major Crime. Even the cupids and hearts didn't upset him. He greeted Rhonda with a cheery "good morning," and headed to his desk. When he saw his desk, he stopped dead in his tracks, and Blair plowed right into his back.
"Jeez, man, warn a guy!" Blair complained as he stepped around Jim. He stared, openmouthed, as he got a good look at their desks. Every available surface was covered with koalas. There were stuffed koalas, ceramic koalas, koala mugs, and even a koala poster stuck to the side of his desk. He closed his mouth with an audible snap, and turned to see how Jim was handling it.
Jim had on his best stone-faced expression. He turned, and gave the occupants of the bullpen his steeliest glare. Only Blair saw how hard a time he was having holding his expression. "I suppose you all think this is funny?" The others stared back with wide eyes, fearing an imminent explosion of the famous Ellison temper. Rafe, in particular, looked like he was debating whether or not he could make it to the door before Jim could run him down. Jim caught his accelerated heartbeat, and pressed his attack. "This was your idea, wasn't it, Rafe." He stalked toward the younger detective's desk.
Rafe broke. "It was H's idea!" he squeaked.
Jim couldn't hold it any longer. He burst out laughing. "Oh, god if you could have seen your face..." He laughed, and as the others caught the joke, they started laughing, too. H gave Rafe a disgusted look before he started laughing. He and Blair staggered over to their desks, and cleared a space to work.
Jim had settled down a bit when he came across it. A little stuffed koala in red satin boxers that said "I wuv you". He started to snicker. He tossed it over to Blair. "Here, Blair, Happy Valentines Day."
Blair retrieved the ugly little toy from his lap where it landed, and looked over at him as if he had lost his mind. The expression on his face was too much for Jim and he burst out laughing again. Blair just sighed, and went back to clearing off his desk. "Jim, man, I think the koalas have gone to your head."
Jim chuckled a bit more, then finally got himself under control. "It's not the koalas, Chief, it's you." He smiled at Blair, that same sweet, goofy grin from the previous night. "I'm -- happy. I think I could get used to this."
Blair smiled back. "Count on it, man. Count on it.
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Note: This story was inspired by an actual crime. Two koalas were stolen from the San Francisco Zoo December 27, 2000. The animals were recovered, unharmed. Two teenaged males were arrested for the theft. They intended to give the animals as gifts to their girlfriends. For additional information, check out the SF Chronicle at http://www.sfgate.com/ in the Archives.