Title: Home Sweet Home
Author: Candy Apple
Rating: E-
Status: NEW, complete
Series/Sequel: Story Three in the New Beginnings Series
Archive: Yes

Summary: Jim brings Blair home from the hospital.

Warnings: Not really.  I guess you could say minor spoilers for Sentinel
Too, as if we don't all know everything about *that* ep by now,
whether we wanted to or not!! :-)

Notes: Sorry if the template is incomplete, but my power's out right
now, so I'm posting from work. ;-)


HOME SWEET HOME 

by 

Candy Apple

     "How're you feeling, Chief?"

     "I'm okay.  Just a little tired," Blair responded, watching the city
move quickly past the truck window.  It was probably Jim's fifth inquiry
since they'd left the hospital, but Blair didn't really mind a doting Jim.  It
was kind of a nice feeling to have the larger man "hovering".

     "We're almost there," Jim responded, turning onto Prospect and
heading down the final few blocks toward the loft.  "I figured on making
us dinner--spaghetti okay?"

     "Sounds good," Blair responded, smiling a little.  He couldn't
seem to shake the depression that lingered with him since his brush with
death.  Maybe it would just take time to heal from the pain of the near-split of his relationship
with Jim and to get over the shock of knowing
he'd been clinically dead for a prolonged period of time.  

     "What's wrong?"  Jim asked softly.  Blair had to smile, realizing
that the human vital sign monitor in the driver's seat had assessed all of
his body's current functions to determine that something, in fact, *was*
wrong.

     "It's just been a lot to process...the last several days.  Seems a
little weird seeing the outside world again.  Going home...I haven't been
there in a while."

     "I tried to get everything back the way you had it.  If anything's
not right, you just tell me and I'll fix it."

     "You unpacked everything?"

     "Yesterday, while Rafe and Brown were visiting with you."

     "You mean babysitting me?"  Blair asked, smiling to let Jim
know it was a good-natured jab.

     "I didn't want you coming home to cartons.  Ever again."  The
last two words were so quiet that Blair barely heard them.  

     "Thanks."

     "There's one other thing we haven't talked about."

     "What's that?"

     "I, uh, kind of changed a couple things around.  Your stuff's all
on the shelves and most of it's stored the way you had it.  But, uh, I put
a few things upstairs.  I'm kind of thinking now that I should have
asked."

     "You know you can borrow anything I've got, Jim.  You don't
have to ask."  It didn't occur to Blair until Jim's uneasy silence what he
had meant.  

     "I wasn't talking about borrowing a couple of tribal masks to
brighten up my walls," he replied, a little annoyed to be forced into
verbalizing even more than he already had.

     "You mean, like my clothes and stuff?"

     "The stuff you wear all the time, and your socks and underwear
in the drawer..."  Jim let the sentence trail off with a shrug.  

     "You want me to sleep upstairs?"

     "Only if you want to.  I can have everything moved back
downstairs in a flash if you want to sleep in your old room.  No
problem."

     "I don't feel up to very much yet," Blair said quietly.

     "I want you 100% healthy first.  Everything else can wait.  I just
thought it might be, you know, kind of, uh, nice...we'd be together that
way."

     "I'd love to move upstairs," Blair responded finally, smiling.

     "Longer trip to the bathroom."

     "I think you're worth a long walk to the john," Blair replied,
laughing a little.  He was amused to see that Jim was, in fact, blushing
slightly as he shared the laugh.

     The loft looked like home.  Jim had done exactly as he said and
put everything back to sentinel's-eye perfection.  If Blair hadn't seen it
for himself, he'd have never believed that his things had been moved or
that the apartment had been stripped to the bones a little over a week
earlier.  The only thing that caught his eye as being different was the
banner that hung from the railing around the loft bedroom: WELCOME
HOME, CHIEF was painted in very neat, perfect red block letters on a
white paper banner.  Blair hated that his first reaction to this cheery
greeting was tears, but if coming home to a "home" he never thought
he'd see again hadn't been enough, and if moving into Jim's bed hadn't
been enough, the simple gesture of the banner was enough to rattle the
fragile control he seemed to have over his emotions.

     "Blair?"  Jim let the duffle bag he'd carried in for Blair drop to
the floor and moved to his partner's side.  "What's wrong, sweetheart?" 
The endearment pushed the younger man over the edge, and he turned
to Jim and wrapped his arms around the solid torso, crying against Jim's
shoulder.  "Shhh.  It's okay, baby."  Jim enveloped him in strong arms
and stroked his hair gently.  "I've got you.  It's okay," he murmured
again, patting Blair's back lightly.

     "I'm sorry."

     "No. *I'm* sorry, Chief.  I'm so sorry I hurt you so badly.  I
didn't mean to."

     "Not that...it's just...so good to...be home," Blair managed,
grabbing fistfuls of the fabric of Jim's shirt.  "I thought...I'd never...see
the inside...of this place...like this again."

     "I thought the same thing when I had to unpack everything," Jim
responded, rubbing Blair's back and smiling when the answer earned a
watery laugh.

     "I...love the banner."

     "I love *you*," Jim replied simply, squeezing Blair as tightly as
he dared.  "I'm not ever going to let you forget it again, Chief," he
added softly, kissing the top of Blair's head.

     "I didn't mean to lose it like this."  Blair pulled away and wiped
at his eyes.  "Since...since what happened, it just feels like everything is
right up there at the surface.  I can't explain it."

     "You had a pretty good scare, sweetheart.  It's understandable. 
After the crash in Peru, I sort of felt that way myself."

     "You were coping with the deaths of your whole unit."

     "That's true, but coming face to face with my own death was a
pretty jarring experience.  It leaves you a little shaky."  Jim laid a hand
on Blair's back and rubbed lightly.  "Ready to go upstairs and lie down
for a while?"

     "I just got up."

     "But you're tired.  The doctor said bed rest, Chief."

     "I *am* kind of winded.  I thought I was going to feel better
than this."

     "He said there'd be some residual effects from the nerve gas."
Jim shuddered slightly.  "Thank God she didn't know enough about
what she was doing to give you a bigger dose."

     "If I hadn't been gassed, I would've drowned."

     "It was the best way things could have played out considering
the circumstances."

     "Feels like I must've had some pretty decent Karma working for
me."

     "Come on.  Time to get you to bed."  Jim completely startled his
partner by lifting him up into his arms and heading for the stairs.

     "I didn't break my legs, Jim," Blair protested.

     "Going up takes a lot more effort than going down.  I don't want
you getting out of breath.  I haven't had as much time to work with the
weights lately anyway," Jim teased, starting up the steps.  He was
relieved to feel Blair relax a little, his head drooping onto Jim's shoulder.
     
     "My wall hanging!"  Blair exclaimed, noticing the adornment
from his old room downstairs gracing one of the previously bare walls
of the upstairs bedroom.

     "I hope you don't mind that I moved it up here.  I thought you
might like having something *you* picked out up on the wall."  Jim
deposited Blair so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

     "It's great."  Blair glanced over at the dresser, and his eyes
widened.  "It looks like I've always slept up here," he said, scanning the
array of personal things that had been on his small dresser downstairs
that were now sharing this dresser top with Jim's things.  In the middle,
both men's small collections of framed photos shared the space.  

     "If you want to change anything, go right ahead.  I split the
drawers up half and half--I'm on the left, you're on the right.  I did the
same thing with the closet."  Jim shifted a little nervously from one foot
to the other.  "Maybe I'm being a little pushy with all this.  I didn't ask
you first.  I guess I was kind of, uh, well," Jim stammered, then smiled
slightly.  "I was kind of...walking on air a little after all that kissing we
were doing last night."

     "I think it's great, man.  I *want* to be here.  Like this."  Blair
gestured at the dresser and the room in general.  

     "I don't *ever* want to see your stuff packed up separately
again."

     "Me either," Blair replied, grinning and standing up to wrap his
arms around the man he loved.  "I love you."

     "You too, baby."  Jim returned the pressure of the hug, then
stepped back.  "Bed."

     "All this just to have your way with me, huh?"  Blair teased,
shedding his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.

     "Naptime.  No arguments."

     "Yes, sir," Blair replied, executing a sloppy salute.

     "Smart ass," Jim retorted as he swatted Blair's butt playfully on
his way to turn back the bed.

     Blair took his nap as ordered, and laughingly accepted what he
called the Ellison Taxi Service downstairs for dinner, TV and a little
stint of kissing on the couch.  With a whine of protest, Blair had finally
cooperated with the activity being halted before it got too interesting
and took his shower, then was delivered to the bed as if he were the
most fragile and precious cargo in the world.  He was beginning to
understand that to Jim, he was.  

     After peppering Blair's face with a multitude of chaste little
kisses, Jim returned downstairs to take his own shower and turn off the
lights for the night.  He had to laugh at himself, acting like a lovestruck
teenager with the guy he'd been living with for almost three years.  In
the twenty minutes or so he'd been away from Blair, he already missed
him.  Thinking of how he would have felt to return to this place alone,
with Blair separated from him forever, chilled his soul to its core.  He
hurried upstairs to the warm reassurance of their shared bed.

     Curled up on what was to become his side of the big bed, where
he would be shielded by the wall on one side and a very large, very
protective sentinel on the other, Blair was sleeping more soundly than
he had in days.  Jim finally turned in himself, shifting onto his side to
face Blair.  
     
     The dark lashes and curls still contrasted with light skin, but
there was a healthy color slowly coming back to the still-pale face. 
Watching Blair "sleep" had been a painful vigil before the younger man
had regained consciousness in the hospital.  But knowing those
incomparable blue eyes would open in a few hours, and a healthy,
coherent Blair would be back with him, Jim could find pleasure again in
watching his soulmate in this peaceful state.  

     Smiling when he noticed Blair's hand resting palm up on the
pillow, Jim seized the opportunity to carefully take the hand in both of
his, resting his head just inches from it.  With Blair's heart thumping out
its healthy, sleeping rhythm, the warmth of the smaller hand in his, and
Blair's scent carried on the air he breathed, Jim slid off into his first
peaceful sleep in weeks.

********

End of this round... :-)