THE MIRROR'S OTHER IMAGE

by

Candy Apple

(Author's Note: This story takes into account canon through the episode "Mirror Image".)

Jim stirred again, fighting the discomfort of sleeping on the couch. Immediately becoming aware of another presence in the room, his eyes snapped open in the darkness. He found a familiar figure hunched in the corner of the other couch, dressed in his undershirt and boxers, watching him.

"Did I wake you?" Blair asked softly.

"This damned couch is enough to cripple a person. I wasn't sleeping very well anyway." Jim took in Blair's elevated heart rate, shallow breathing, and assessed the younger man's features more completely in the darkness that most people could have in broad daylight. "What's wrong, Chief?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"I figured. Thinking about Chapel?" Jim watched as Blair nodded slightly.

"Kind of hard not to with all this mess around." Jim flopped onto his back and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. "I wonder if my homeowners' insurance has an optional clause for lunatic-inflicted damages."

"Written just for us, no doubt," Blair responded, laughing slightly.

"You and Cassie--that was a pretty close call earlier." Jim said, looking over at his partner, easily reading his expression in the moonlight.

"Yeah...too close," Blair agreed, leaning back in the cushions, seeming more relaxed now. "Um, you want to try sleeping in my room? My legs are shorter--I could sleep on the couch without being so scrunched up."

"I don't know about that mattress of yours. I might never walk again."

"It's no worse than the couch, man," Blair responded, smiling. "I should probably go back in my room if I'm keeping you awake."

"I don't think it's weird if this Chapel thing has you a little hyper."

"You know what the worst part was?" Blair asked softly, and Jim shook his head slightly. "When he opened fire on the bedroom upstairs. I just couldn't figure how he could miss hitting you." Blair shuddered visibly.

"He barely did. If I hadn't moved fast, and had some good luck on my side, he would have. The important thing is that he didn't take out either one of us."

"Or Cassie."

"Or Cassie," Jim repeated, yawning.

"She's really trying, Jim."

"She certainly is," Jim responded, rolling his eyes.

"That was meant as a verb, not an adjective, man." Blair laughed, having read the sinister intent behind Jim's ready agreement. Cassie could be one of the most "trying" people they'd ever known.

"Maybe she's finally getting the picture who's involved in this partnership," Jim said, yawning again, shifting for a better position, this time on his side, facing Blair, but letting his eyes drift shut a little.

"What do you mean--who's involved?"

"Her job's in Forensics, not constantly getting in the mid--working with us like she's a detective."

"So this is a territory thing."

"Don't start with me, Blair. I'm tired."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, maybe it's territory thing."

"It's not like she's trying to outshine you as a detective--is it just a turf issue?"

"Let it go, Chief. I already gave in, remember?"

"Unless..." Blair stared into space for a few long moments, then looked back at Jim, who was not entirely happy to see such a look of recognition on the other man's face. "You didn't like me working with her, did you?"

"Not when it nearly got you killed, no."

"Going to the library with her didn't nearly get me killed. But even that day, you were so...I don't know...you just had like, this major attitude about everything that day. I didn't get it then, but--"

"You think you've got something now, I suppose?" Jim asked, trying to sound disinterested, as if Blair were far off the mark, when in fact, he had just homed in on the heart of the problem. Cassie Wells was a pain in the ass without equal, but the biggest source of Jim's abhorrence of the woman came in her veritable plethora of knowledge, taste for high-tech toys, and her willingness to spend all day head-first in a pile of reference books. In other words, her potential compatibility with his partner. Was he about to share that thought with Blair? Not under pain of death...

"You're my best friend, Jim. Working with somebody like Cassie a few times isn't going to change that."

"Thanks, Chief, but I didn't expect it was." Liar, liar, pants on fire! Jim's subconscious mocked him. He sighed loudly. Is it possible to flip the bird to your subconscious?

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to ever get the stupid idea that there's anybody else I'd rather work with," Blair said, giving Jim the stroke he was looking for without belaboring the point. I love you for being the way you are, Chief. Blair followed that declaration with a jaw stretching yawn.

"You ready to turn in?"

"I'm getting kind of sleepy, I guess."

Blair reluctantly unfolded his legs from under him on the couch and stood, starting to move away from the couch. Jim pushed back against the back of the couch, and held up the throw that was over him. Blair just stared at it a moment, dumbfounded. Then, just as Jim figured he'd made the most embarassing mistake in judgement of his entire life, Blair moved hesitantly toward the couch. He sat on the small strip Jim had cleared for him, then lay down carefully, snuggling back against Jim's warmth as the large arm holding the throw came protectively around him.

"Comfortable?" Jim asked, a smile in his voice. He was smashed against the back of the couch, Blair's hair was in his face, the arm that had formerly been only under the pillow was now under the pillow and under Blair's head and would be asleep in an hour. Jim was ecstatic.

"Yeah. You?" Blair asked, still strung tighter than a bow-string.

"Yeah. Fine." Both men were quiet a long time. "Relax, Chief. You're so tight you're making me nervous." Jim ran his hand in what he hoped was a soothing motion up and down Blair's arm, from his shoulder to his elbow.

"I was just thinking."

"Want to clue me in?"

"I hope it takes you a long time to find a mattress you like," Blair responded, a definite smile in his voice. Jim slid his arm around Blair's middle and pulled him close. He rested his head against the side of Blair's.

"You mean one we like," Jim whispered into the ear he found lurking under the curls. He smiled at the little shiver from Blair.

"You really mean it, Jim?" Blair turned over quickly, excitedly, to share this moment of romantic revelation with Jim.

And fell off the couch, flat on his ass, on the floor.

Taken by surprise, both men stared at each other momentarily, before Jim's jaw twitched a little and they both burst out laughing.

"Ow," Blair complained through his laughter, producing the bruised apple that was under his butt when he landed.

"That's what you get for doing a half-assed clean-up job, Chief," Jim teased, regaining a little of his composure.

"Now can we try my bed?" Blair reached out and accepted the hand Jim offered him, getting up on his knees and waiting for Jim's answer.

"If we stick with the couch, one of us is going to get killed before we get the new bed." Jim swung his legs down to the floor and sat up, pushing himself up to stand and Blair did the same.

"What happens now?" Blair asked, sliding his hand into Jim's, not too sure how the gesture would be accepted.

"Well, it's almost three, we've gotta be up at six, we're both half asleep--we go to bed?" Jim squeezed Blair's hand, keeping it right where it was.

"When you said it was going to be our bed upstairs...what...I mean, what does that really mean?"

"It means..." Jim looked down into the hopeful blue eyes, and smiled, letting go of Blair's hand and framing his face instead. Then he lowered his head until their lips met, a little awkwardly and uncertainly, before melding into a perfect, prolonged kiss. "I guess I'm claiming my territory," Jim said in a husky voice, still holding onto Blair's face as the other man's arms slid around him, pulling them close.

"I think I'm in love with you. Is that okay?" Blair asked, still searching Jim's face a little uncertainly.

"No." Jim smiled, needing to dispel the momentary pain that flashed across Blair's features. "What's up with this think shit?" he teased. "I offer you a package like this and you think you're in love with me?" Jim shook his head. "You're a real piece of work, Sandburg." He kissed Blair's startled mouth again. "See, I know I'm in love with you, so I guess I just have to sit around until you figure it out. So how many batches of incense and candles and weird chants is that gonna take?"

"I've got incense and candles in my bedroom, and I bet with the right incentive, you could come up with a couple of chants to convince me," Blair retorted, making sure his boxer-covered groin brushed Jim's before he backed away, grabbing hold of Jim's hand and pulling him toward the bedroom.

When six o'clock rolled around, the candles had burned low, Blair was thoroughly convinced, and both exhausted men slept through the alarm.