NO LIMITS

There ain't no limit to the things you'd do
If you love somebody
The way that I do you.
--Kevin Sharp

Jim rolled over, his arm reaching out to wrap around the bed's other occupant, only to come up empty. He frowned with disappointment and pushed up onto an elbow. Delicious scents wafted up from the kitchen below. Twisting around, he looked past the railing and down to the kitchen. Blair, wearing nothing but an old tank top and boxer shorts, was busy stirring eggs in the frying pan, sipping on his morning coffee. The sight brought a smile to Jim's lips. He climbed out of bed and slipped into his robe as he padded barefoot down the stairs.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Blair greeted him.

Jim glided behind his lover and wrapped his arms around the slender waist, burying his face in the fragrant curls fanned out across Blair's back and shoulders. "Mmmmm," he mumbled, as he nibbled the delicate curve of an ear. His lips moved lower to capture one of the silver rings, tugging on it gently.

Blair reached up with his free hand, wrapping it around the Sentinel's neck. He leaned in to the caresses, finally turning his head to accept his morning kiss.

"What's gotten into you this morning?" Blair asked. "You're being unusually affectionate." He tried to concentrate on not burning the eggs, but the peppering of kisses and roaming hands were causing all the blood to drain from his brain and pool in an organ farther south on his anatomy.

"Just thinking," Jim replied, continuing to explore his partner's body.

"Can we continue this conversation while we eat?" A neat dodge and turn got Blair away from his lover and over to the table where he shoveled the eggs onto two plates.

Jim followed with another plate full of buttered toast and a large mug of coffee. He set the food on the table, then sat across from Blair, propping his chin on his hands. He stared at his roommate for a time, until Blair began to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"What?" Blair finally asked, exasperated.

"Just thinking," Jim repeated, continuing to study the man across the table. "You know," he continued after a time, "we're married in just about every way that the law allows us to be."

It was Blair's turn to return the stare, a forkful of eggs poised near his lips.

"We've had each other's durable power of attorney for years now. Since we became life partners, we share our names on the bank accounts, the title to the loft and the cars. We're each other's beneficiaries on our life insurance policies. We've lived together for four years now. We've slept together for nearly fifteen months." Jim paused once more, gauging his partner's reactions to his words, and anticipating his reaction to his next suggestion.

"I was thinking. . ." Jim paused again, the silence from his lover making him reconsider his plans for just a moment. Then he plowed on. "I was thinking it was time for us to tie the knot. You know, get married for real."

Blair's eggs were rapidly cooling. His jaw worked, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Finally, he set the fork down, took a sip of coffee, and tried again. "Jim, man, get real. There's no provision for a legal and binding same-sex marriage in Washington State. I should know. I've scoured the statutes looking for a loophole."

"You have?" It was Jim's turn to be stunned.

"Heck, yeah," Blair continued reasonably. "I love you, Jim," he said softly, reaching across the table to take Jim's hand. "I want to marry you. I've wanted to marry you ever since we became a couple. But we've done all we legally can to bind ourselves together, unless you plan on moving us to someplace where gay marriages are legal and accepted."

"No, I wasn't thinking of that," Jim confessed. "But I do have some connections." At Blair's spark of interest, he continued. "I know a judge who is sympathetic to the idea of gay marriages. In fact, he's performed a number of them. I thought maybe we'd get Simon and Naomi, if you can track her down, to be our witnesses. We'd go before the judge at the courthouse, say some vows, exchange rings, get our piece of paper, and be married."

"Just that simple." Blair tried to restrain his grin, but was unsuccessful. His face lit up at the very idea.

"Yup. Just that simple." Jim grinned back. "Blair Ellison . . . sounds pretty good, don't you think?"

"Heh, heh, heh . . . hold up there a minute, Partner." Blair held up his hands, palms toward Jim in a "stop for a moment" gesture. "Who said anything about me changing my name? Why can't you be Jim Sandburg?"

"You've got to be kidding me, Chief," Jim chuckled in return. "All right. All right," he said, after seeing the look of annoyance pass across Blair's face. "We'll both just keep our own names. How's that? Less stuff to change that way, too."

Blair smiled at the compromise. "Our kids can be Sandburg-Ellisons," he suggested.

"Who said anything about kids?" Jim asked in mock horror.

"We've got to have someone to carry on the family name," Blair continued to tease.

"Oh, no. You're not pulling that one on me!" Jim shook his head, and concentrated on finishing his breakfast.

Blair continued to eye him, a smile gracing tempting lips. "It was just a thought."

Later that same day:

Jim hung up his coat and headed for the kitchen to see what to fix for dinner. He loved to cook, even though he'd never admit it to his roommate. Sandburg's cooking was superb, but tended toward low-fat, healthy items. Jim was in the mood for some serious artery-clogging cholesterol tonight.

Simon had agreed to be his best man at the commitment ceremony, and then had taken the time to seriously rag on Jim for taking up with "the Kid." "Robbing the cradle" was also a phrase that had come up repeatedly during his tirade. So? What was an eleven-year difference in their ages? Blair didn't seem to mind the idea of shacking up with an older man. And the way he took over their love making on frequent occasions, Jim could not quite picture Blair as the unspoiled innocent Simon tried to paint him. Quite the opposite, in fact. Blair was skilled beyond his years in the art of sexual pleasure.

Jim pulled a couple cans of pinto beans off the shelf, then rooted around in the back of the refrigerator for his private stash of lard. Getting out a frying pan, he mashed the beans and added the fat for frying. Locating tortillas and cheese, he set about making enchiladas, adding strips of leftover chicken to the cheese filling. Lastly, in deference to his mate's delicate sensibilities when it came to food, he added a large tossed salad with plenty of sliced and diced vegetables, and just a squeeze of lemon.

He was sliding the baking dish into the oven as the front door slammed open, and the object of his recent musings bounced in, dropping his backpack under the coat hooks.

"Guess what, Jim?"

Yes, Jim thought. Blair was really bouncing. The balls of his feet were getting the workout of their lives as the young man tried, unsuccessfully, to rein in his excitement. The sight made him smile. Jim waited patiently, knowing his partner would be unable to hold in the news for long.

"I got a hold of Naomi." Blair grinned an ear-to-ear smile as he watched the reaction form on Jim's face. "She's in Colorado at some retreat, but she'll be here the first of next week. She's really excited. You know, it took her a while to come to terms with you being a cop. She burned more sage in a week than she had the entire year, but she got over it. She likes you, and she's thrilled her little boy is finally getting married. Isn't that great?"

Jim smiled and nodded. "You did tell her it's just a simple ceremony in front of a judge, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. She understands. You won't have to worry about Mom," Blair assured his partner.

Sunday afternoon:

Naomi dropped her packages in the doorway, and leaned over to kiss Jim on the cheek. Then, with arms held wide, she advanced on her only son, wrapping Blair in an enthusiastic hug and kissing him soundly. "I just can't believe my little boy is getting married!" She ruffled his hair as she turned a beaming smile on Jim. "This is so exciting!"

She gathered her bags, before either man could assist her, and bustled toward the small room under the stairs. "I assume I'll be staying in your old room," she chattered, "now that you're sleeping with Jim." She deposited her meager luggage and swept back out into the room. "There's just so much to do! When did you plan the ceremony?" Naomi finally came up for breath, waiting for an answer.

"Mom," Blair began, walking over to her and laying calming hands on her arms. "This is just a simple ceremony before a judge, remember? We have an appointment for this Friday."

"An appointment? An appointment to get married?" Naomi looked scandalized. "I only have one son, and if he's decided to get married, we're going to do this right!"

"What do you mean by 'right'?" Blair asked suspiciously.

"Why, I mean with a rabbi, of course. Maybe an outdoor wedding under a flowered bower. Do you boys have time to rent tuxes? I'll have to see to announcements and invitations. Can you reschedule with this judge of yours, Jim? I don't think Friday will give me enough time." Naomi had found the phone book and was leafing through the yellow pages.

"I didn't think you'd sanction a big production marriage," Jim commented. "Pretty establishment of you, isn't it?"

"Oh, I've got nothing against marriage and large weddings," Naomi countered. "I just never found anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. That doesn't mean I don't want the very best for my baby."

"Mom," Blair dragged out the word with an exasperated cry.

"He doesn't like it when I call him my baby," Naomi chuckled, in a quiet aside to Jim.

"Mom, why don't you just come sit down over here," Blair said, trying to keep his voice reasonable. He took Naomi by the arm and led her over to the couch. "Would you like some tea? I've got some new herbal blends I think you'd like."

"Oh, we don't have time for that," Naomi replied, still looking through the phone book she'd brought with her.

Blair settled next to her, gently pulling the book from her hands and holding them cradled in his. "Mom, I love you, and I know you love me, but Jim and I just want a quiet little ceremony. This is just for us. It isn't anybody else's business."

Naomi visibly deflated. With her lips turned down in a soulful pout, she looked her son directly in the eyes. "I just want this to be something beautiful that you'll remember for the rest of your lives. I wanted to do something special--my wedding gift to you."

"Your being here is gift enough," Blair told her in all sincerity. He gathered her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "It's so good to see you again. It's more than enough just to have you stand as witness to our love. That you've accepted Jim is beyond my expectations."

"Jim is a good man," Naomi said. "Sure, it bothers me that he's a cop, that he takes you into dangerous situations, but I've processed through that. What matters is that my son is happy and in love." By the time she had stopped speaking, Naomi had extricated herself from her son's embrace, and had captured his face between her hands. She tilted his head up and planted a motherly kiss on his lips.

"I thought you said I wasn't going to have to worry," Jim whispered into his lover's ear that night once they had finally gotten to bed.

Blair snuggled down into his favorite sleeping position, with his face buried in the juncture of Jim's neck and shoulder. "You don't have to worry." His muffled voice radiated confidence. "I can keep Naomi under control."

"Famous last words," Jim sighed, wrapping his arms around his lover before kissing him good-night.

Monday morning:

"Just make yourself at home," Blair told Naomi as he prepared to leave. "I've got some classes at the U that will take up most of the day. You can call my office number if you need anything." He handed her a business card and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "See you this afternoon."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Honey," Naomi said with a smile, patting her son's arm. "I've got plenty to keep myself busy."

"Now, Mom," Blair warned. "Don't go making wedding plans behind my back. I told you--simple vows before a judge down at the courthouse."

Naomi smiled and nodded. "I just need to make a few phone calls, is all," she added.

"Okay. Just don't get into trouble, hear me?"

"I hear you, Dear."

"I've gotta run, Mom. See you later." Blair exited the apartment with a final wave.

Naomi pulled a slip of paper from a pocket, and began dialing the numbers written on it.

Later that afternoon:

Blair was bent over a pile of blue books, grading a difficult essay assignment, when the phone rang.

Sandburg? Jim's voice rang across the phone line.

"What is it? What's happened?" Blair hadn't heard his partner use that particular tone of voice for a very long time.

Simon got a fax.

Blair sat up straight, immediately alert. "Did some serious felon escape prison? Is he headed for the loft?"

Worse, came the tight reply.

"Worse? What could be worse than some murdering madman descending on the loft?" Blair's heart was beating a rapid tattoo in his chest.

Naomi. Jim's voice was strained.

"Mom?" Blair's breathing evened out a bit. "Mom sent Simon a fax?"

Not just any fax, Jim replied. It's a wedding announcement and invitation to the entire department to attend the 'joyous union' of her son and Detective Ellison at the Holden Park Arboretum at 1:00 p.m. Sunday afternoon.

"Oh, God," Blair groaned. "Can't you just tell Simon to shred it? Nobody else has to know, right?"

Too late. Jim's voice was grave. Joel, Rafe and Brown were there when it arrived. Any chance you could get some time off, and go home to talk with her?

"On my way. Don't worry, Jim. I can get her under control." Blair could hear the ringing of the phone line on Jim's end of the connection.

Gotta go, Chief. I've got a call on another line.

"Okay. See you later."

"Ellison," Jim answered the second line.

Mr. Ellison? Samuel Marks here.

"Oh, Judge Marks. What can I do for you?" Jim asked.

I just wanted to confirm the change of date and time for your commitment ceremony, Judge Marks answered.

"Change? What change?"

Ms. Sandburg called and said there was a change in plans: one o'clock this Sunday afternoon at the Holden Park Arboretum?

"Ms. Sandburg called? Ms. Sandburg?" Jim was fuming. "There's no change in plans," he added quickly. "Ms. Sandburg was in error."

Are you certain? the judge asked. She sounded quite sincere.

"Oh, I'm very certain. Please keep the appointment at ten o'clock Friday morning," Jim insisted.

No problem, Judge Marks confirmed.

"And, please," Jim added, "don't call Ms. Sandburg to tell her of the change. I'll take care of that."

Thank you very much, Mr. Ellison. I'm glad we got that cleared up. Good-bye.

Me, too, Jim mumbled to himself. "Good-bye, Judge Marks."

Blair burst through the loft's front door, and headed directly over to where his mother was seated at the dining table addressing a pile of stuffed envelopes. "What do you think you're doing?"

Naomi looked up and smiled at her son. "Oh, Blair! How good to see you. I wasn't expecting you home so soon."

"Obviously," Blair groaned, looking at the pile of mail.

"I'm just addressing invitations," Naomi answered her son's question.

"Well, you can just stop," Blair said, grabbing the pile from in front of his mother. "You're not going to be mailing these."

"Why ever not? I've already mailed out over two dozen. This is the second batch." She smiled beatifically up at her bewildered child.

"Mom, you didn't. Please say you didn't," Blair groaned.

"I made some phone calls, too," Naomi added. "Some of our friends and relatives live too far away for the mail to reach them in time. I had to call in order to make sure they could get their plane reservations."

"No." Blair shook his head. "No-no-no-no-nooooo. . . ." He paused for a breath, pulling up a chair to sit next to his mother. "You didn't make any international calls, did you?"

"Only three," Naomi answered blithely.

Blair dropped his head into his hands. Finally, he found the strength to look up. "You're going to have to call them all back," he said. "Mom, I told you we're not having a big wedding!"

"But, Baby, you only get married once," Naomi insisted. "If you do it right the first time, that is."

"Mom, you have to stop," Blair said with a sigh. "Just call them back and cancel."

"Oh, I can't do that, Hon. Some of them already called back confirming they'd be here."

Blair sat with his head hanging, slowly shaking it back and forth, when the phone rang. He reached for the receiver, but Naomi beat him to it.

"Hello? Oh, yes. He's right here. Just a moment." Naomi put her hand over the mouthpiece and addressed her son. "Raspberry or vanilla custard filling?"

"Huh?" Blair looked up, confused.

"Raspberry or vanilla custard filling in the cake? It's chocolate. I like the idea of vanilla custard better, don't you? That goes nicely with chocolate, and almost everybody likes it."

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Blair asked again.

"The wedding cake, silly," Naomi answered with a grin. "White cake is just so overdone. I think chocolate will be much nicer." She uncovered the mouthpiece. "We'll go with the custard filling, please."

"No! Mom. . . ." Blair grabbed at the receiver.

"What, Dear? You'd rather have raspberry?" Naomi looked doubtful.

"It's not that," Blair said, still trying to wrest the receiver out of her hand. "We don't need a wedding cake. You've got to cancel the order."

"Custard filling will be fine." Naomi said quickly, hanging up the phone. She turned to Blair with a patient look. "I can't cancel now," she explained. "I've already put down a non-refundable deposit." She took a good look at her son, who had visibly paled. "You don't look like you're feeling very well, Sweetie. Why don't you go lie down? I'll take care of things here."

"That's what I'm worried about," Blair moaned.

When Jim finally walked through the loft door that evening, Blair launched himself at his lover. "Help me!" he cried. "She's out of control!" He buried his face in Jim's shirt and stood, shaking, in the arms of his protector.

Jim felt a moist warmth spread across the fabric of his shirt. Blair was crying. He wrapped his arms tighter around the smaller man and, with a glare at Naomi, led him upstairs to their bedroom.

He broke their embrace, pushing Blair to sit on the bed. He took a good look at his partner. What he saw was not what he had expected. "Blair?"

"I'm not crying. I'm just so angry. . . ." Blair ground out through clenched teeth. "I'm letting this go. I'm letting this go," he repeated quietly to himself.

"Want to talk about it?" Jim asked, sitting beside his mate. "Or should I just do the deed and hide the body?"

"I couldn't legally be made to testify against you, could I?" Blair asked, with a gleam in his eye.

"That's true for married couples," Jim confirmed, "but I'm not sure it holds for life partners."

"Better find another solution, then," Blair sighed.

Tuesday, mid-morning:

Good news, Chief, Jim announced. I was out on a case that took me past the bakery, so I stopped and explained the situation with the wedding cake.

"You explained. . . ." Blair said, a cautious note in his voice.

Yeah, you know--I told them what was up with your mother, and they were delighted to cancel the order and give her a refund.

"Delighted?" Blair's voice held a note of disbelief. "Um, Jim, you didn't use your particular brand of persuasion, did you?"

You mean threatening them with bodily harm or arrest if they didn't comply? Slapping them with enough lawsuits to keep them in court until the turn of the next century? Jim chuckled. Would I do something like that?

Blair groaned. "I don't want to know. I really don't," he muttered. Then, in a stronger voice, he added, "Thanks for taking care of that. I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed, you know?"

I hear you, Jim chuckled. Hey, I gotta go now. See you this evening.

"Bye, Jim." Blair hung up the phone and looked around his small office at the university. Maybe he should see if he could get Tim to take over his afternoon class. It didn't seem wise to leave Naomi home alone for very long. He picked up the phone, and punched in the extension for Tim Warner's office. "Yeah, Tim," he began when his fellow TA picked up the phone. "I've got a favor to ask. . . ."

"Hey, Mom!" Blair greeted his mother with a cheery tone as he breezed into the loft.

Naomi looked up from her position on the couch, the phone nestled next to her on the cushion. "Hi, Sweetie! What are you doing home so early?"

"Can't a guy just want to spend some time with his mom?" he asked. "The weather is beautiful. I thought maybe we could take a stroll down by the harbor. We could pick up some lunch at a vendor's and watch the fishing boats."

"That sounds lovely, Dear." Naomi smiled at her son. "I'll just take a minute to get ready." She got up and headed toward the bathroom to freshen up. Stopping just outside the door, she turned. "You know, I just got the strangest phone call from the bakery. They told me the order had been canceled, and the charge on my credit card reversed."

"That's great news," Blair said, grinning. "I thought you couldn't get a refund."

"Well, that's the really strange part," Naomi continued. "I didn't cancel the order! So, of course, I had to explain the situation to them. They were very nice. The cake will be delivered on time, Sunday, as originally promised." She turned back to the bathroom, disappearing inside.

Blair sank into the soft cushions of the couch and nursed the beginnings of a headache.

"This is lovely!" Naomi munched on her veggie pita as they sat on a bench overlooking the bay. "I'm so glad you suggested a day out. It was getting a little claustrophobic in that apartment. No offense, Dear," she added quickly.

"No offense taken, Mom," Blair assured her. "It's just that you don't get to Cascade very often anymore, and it seems a shame to stay inside all the time, especially when the weather is cooperating."

"Oh, I agree entirely!" Naomi enthused. She placed her pita on the wrapper between them, and took a sip of diet soda. "I had a most interesting conversation today," she continued. "I had to make sure that William Ellison was doing his part for the wedding."

"Mom, you didn't!" Blair groaned.

"The poor man didn't even know the two of you were a couple! Can you imagine that?"

"Actually, I can, Naomi." Blair shifted uncomfortably. "Jim didn't want his dad to find out about us."

"Why ever not?" Naomi asked, confused.

"Because his father is rather old-fashioned, and strict. He would never approve of Jim having a homosexual relationship, much less actually marrying a man."

Naomi patted her son's knee. "But you're not just any man, Blair. William has met you. He knows you work with his son."

"That doesn't matter," Blair explained. "He is really pressed when it comes to liking me at all. Oh, sure, I played a part in his reconciliation with Jim, but that doesn't make me any less the longhaired hippie freak. Besides, I'm way too young."

"None of that should matter if you're in love," Naomi said, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"It matters to William Ellison. . . ."

That evening:

There was a knock at the door. Jim, being the closest, got up to answer. Standing in the hallway was a bemused William Ellison. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to invite me in?"

Jim stood aside, allowing his father into the apartment. "What are you doing here, Dad?" he asked, guiding him over to the second couch.

"I just wanted to hear it from you, Jimmy," he said. "You know, you could have told me yourself. It's not like it's the first time I've had to deal with you being different."

"I would have told you--eventually," Jim said, settling on the couch beside his father. "It just never seemed to be the right time."

"Have you met my mother?" Blair interrupted, feeling the uneasiness in his partner. "Naomi, this is Jim's father, William Ellison. Mr. Ellison, my mother, Naomi."

"We spoke on the phone," William said, smiling politely.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you!" Naomi gushed. William stood, clasping her hand in greeting. "Blair has told me so much about you," she continued. Both Jim and Blair paled at that comment. "I couldn't believe that you were as much a stuffed shirt as these boys have made you out to be. They do tend to embellish, you know. I think they were trying to keep us apart. Can you imagine that?" She stopped talking and smiled up at the elder Ellison, tugging on his hand until he sat beside her.

"I was so excited when Blair called me with the news," Naomi began. "It took me a while to accept Jim, too, so I can understand your reluctance. I raised my son to be open and receptive to new experiences. I never dreamed he'd fall in love with a pig--" she paused, glancing up to measure William's reaction. "Please excuse me. When Blair first told me about Jim, I nearly had a heart attack. Then I met him, and found out that Jim was a very fine man. Despite the fact that he takes my son into dangerous situations," she turned a stern glance in Jim's direction, "I've found him to be strong and reliable. And Blair loves him. That's good enough for me."

William eyed the effusive woman next to him with interest, although a bit warily. Her shock of short red hair set off the hazel of her eyes. The long, flowing chiffon gown she wore left little to the imagination. She was actually quite a fine looking woman, he thought. If only she'd shut up. Finally realizing that she *had* quieted, and was waiting for him to comment, he cleared his throat. "Jim and Steven's mother left when the boys were quite young. I had to raise them alone."

"Isn't that a coincidence!" Naomi interrupted. "I raised Blair on my own, too. I guess we really disprove the theory that single-parent children are deprived." She sat back with a huge smile on her face. "I mean, just look at how well they've turned out."

"I'm very proud of Jim," William admitted. "He overcame some pretty tough obstacles and came out stronger for it. However," he added, "I raised my boys to respect and admire women. I never suspected that one, particularly *Jim*, would turn to another man to find companionship."

"That's the thing about love," Naomi said with a sigh. "We don't always get to choose the ones we fall in love with. Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow."

"This is one time I wish Jim would choose to swim upstream," William muttered.

"Dad." Jim turned a stern look on his father. "We're going through with this ceremony, with or without you. Frankly, I would prefer your blessing, or at least your acceptance." He stood up, gesturing toward his father. "Could I possibly speak with you in private?"

William stood and followed his son into the small office/bedroom. He closed the doors behind them and began softly. "Look, Dad. I love Blair. I really love him. He completes me; fills up those empty places inside. I'd like to think you'd at least accept him into our family and make him feel welcome."

"It's not that I don't like Blair," William sputtered. "He's a fine young man, for a . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Hippie?" Jim supplied. "You've got to work past that, Dad. Maybe you don't approve of the long hair or the jewelry, but I see all that as part and parcel of who Blair is. He's a very unique individual. He's brilliant. He's funny. He kicks my butt when I need it. And most of all, he's helped me with my senses. I'm not a freak, Dad. Blair has shown me that what I have is a very special gift. He's made *me* feel special because of it."

"I know, Son," William said, actually sounding contrite. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you as a kid. I just wanted you to fit in."

"I have never really fit in," Jim informed him. "Blair is the first one to not only accept me as I am, but actually revel in my differences."

"You're a lab rat to him," William said, still trying to dissuade his son.

"No, Dad. You're wrong there. Blair may have seen me as nothing more than a test subject when we first got together, but I used him, too. He helped me control and use my senses in my work. As we worked closely together, a genuine friendship grew, and that friendship turned to love. You can't stop an advancing tide, Dad. That's what our love is. Just accept it, and either help or butt out."

"What is it you want, exactly?" William asked.

Jim smiled, knowing that his father would now at least listen. "All we want is a quiet ceremony in front of Judge Marks down at the courthouse. A couple witnesses. No flowers, no music, no cake. We'll slip off quietly for some time alone, and come back as though nothing has changed. This is just for us, not the world."

"And Ms. Sandburg?"

"Naomi wants the works," Jim said with a sigh.

"Well," William mused. "If there's no talking you out of this crazy idea. . . ."

"There's not, Dad. This is it. This is right."

"Then what can I do to help?" William turned on his son with a smile.

For the first time in more years than he could remember, Jim felt support and love from his father. Maybe they could work something out, after all. "Any chance of sabotaging her plans?"

"What have you done so far?"

"Well, I managed to straighten out the ceremony time with the judge. Naomi had called him to switch to Sunday. I got it switched back to Friday."

"That's a good start," William approved. "What else has she done?"

"Sent out invitations, made calls, ordered a cake," Jim listed. "I got the cake order canceled."

"No you didn't." Blair walked into the small room, joining the father and son. "Oh, don't worry," he said when Jim began to panic. "Naomi is fixing dinner. She got wind of you canceling the order and reinstated it," he explained.

"How did she find out?" Jim asked, amazed.

"The bakery called to inform her that her card had been credited for the deposit amount."

Jim dropped his head into his hand and groaned. "Won't that woman ever let up?"

"Not until she has us in tuxes under a bower and in front of a rabbi," Blair replied, smiling.

Jim just shook his head, unable to reply. William spoke up in his stead. "Then I guess it's up to me." He squared his shoulders and exited the room, intent on his conquest.

"What's he going to do?" Blair asked, a worried frown compressing his full lips.

"If I know my father, he'll find a way to keep Naomi off our backs." Jim pulled Blair into a close embrace, rubbing the tension out of knotted shoulder muscles with his hands.

Blair's arms wrapped around Jim's waist, and he sighed. "It's been so long. . . ." He tipped his head up to look at Jim, and found piercing eyes watching him. Hungry lips descended on his mouth, stealing his breath. He felt himself being walked backward, until his knees contacted the futon, and he fell onto the mattress with a soft "whumpf."

Hands began to fumble at his belt and zipper, as Blair pushed back on Jim's shoulders. "Jim! Hey, man, not now," he hissed. "Our folks are out there!"

"William will keep Naomi busy. They won't miss us," Jim said, briefly coming up for air. He dove back into the luscious lips, nibbling down Blair's jaw to his neck.

"My Mom sleeps on this bed!" Blair protested weakly, as Jim finished with the zipper and claimed his prize.

"We'll change the sheets. She'll never know," Jim reasoned, eliciting a moan from his lover as he licked and teased his way down the full cock.

"May I help you?" William Ellison asked as he exited the small bedroom and walked into the kitchen.

Naomi was busy boiling some pasta. She smiled as she looked up from the kettle. "Oh, Bill. . . . May I call you Bill?" she asked coyly. At William's nod, she continued. "You could tear the lettuce for the salad, then chop some of those vegetables."

William picked up a head of butter lettuce and began to pick and shred the leaves with his fingers. "It's been a long time since I've been allowed in a kitchen," he said with a grin. "I used to like cooking in my younger days."

"I like a man who can handle himself in a kitchen," Naomi said, taking the pasta to the sink to drain. "Could you stir the sauce for me, please?"

William put the lettuce down and moved to the stove. "Smells wonderful," he complimented, stirring the simmering sauce.

"It's an old Sandburg family recipe," Naomi told him, as she slid the garlic bread in the oven to brown. She walked back over to the stove and took the spoon from William, who went back to working on the salad.

"I would have thought the boys would be out here by now," William commented. "Maybe I should go check and make sure everything's okay."

Naomi put a hand out, snagging William's sleeve. She smiled and shook and head. "Blair was looking frustrated earlier," she explained. "You know, having his mom around all the time. . . ." Her voice trailed off, leaving a mischievous smile. On cue, a distinct moan of pleasure could be heard issuing from the bedroom. "I think Jim is helping him through it."

William turned back to the salad, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I really don't want to know, do I?"

"No, Dear." Naomi patted his hand, shaking her head in sympathy.

Wednesday afternoon:

"Isn't it the most beautiful day?" Naomi had her face turned up toward the sun, welcoming the warming rays. "I do hope the weather holds through Sunday."

"The forecast looks good," William commented. They were walking through Holden Park--William making good on his promise to try and keep Naomi out of trouble.

"Oh, look!" Naomi pointed. "There's the arboretum! Let's go check out the setup for the wedding." She took William by the hand, practically dragging the poor man toward the enclosed garden. Once inside, she began looking around. "The procession could come from there." She pointed toward the back of the garden. "They can walk up this path--" She walked up the path until she came to a sculptured garden area with a miniature waterfall. "This is it!" She smiled widely. "This is where we'll put the bower."

"Do you really expect either Jim or Blair to walk up the aisle to 'Here Comes the Bride'?" William wondered.

"Oh, well, of course not," Naomi spluttered. "We'll have to come up with some more appropriate music."

"But you can't honestly picture Jim as the bride?" William scowled to make his point.

Naomi's laughter floated on the artificial breeze. "No, certainly not." She shook her head.

"So you'd make your own son play that role?"

Naomi looked thoughtful. "I raised my boy to be open-minded, but I'm not sure he'd appreciate that, either. Maybe they could walk down together, arm in arm?"

William nodded, pretending to go along with whatever ideas Naomi might cook up. "That would probably work best," he agreed.

"We'll have to arrange for the flowers, the bower and the tuxes," Naomi mused. "There's still so much to do, and so little time to get it done. Do you have any idea how many people are to be in the wedding party?"

"I don't think the boys have given that much thought, considering they don't want this to become a big production," William reminded her.

"Well, then, maybe just a best man for each," Naomi decided. She sat down on a nearby bench and patted the seat beside her. William complied with the request, and sat. "I'm so glad to have that much settled," she sighed. "Now I only have to make a few phone calls, and visit the florist. Oh, and we'll have to get the boys fitted for their tuxes."

"Jim owns his own tux," William interjected.

Naomi clapped her hands together in surprise. "Oh, that's wonderful! One less thing to worry about." She bounced up off the bench, and began to wander down the curving path. William got up and followed. "It's going to be beautiful," she said, dreamily. "I still can't believe my little boy is getting married."

"Me, either," muttered William.

"I'll have to call Rabbi Gutmann in the morning," Naomi was saying. "I've already arranged for Judge Marks to be here." She turned toward Jim's father. "That's all right with you, isn't it?" she asked. "Our boys come from different religious backgrounds, so I thought a cross-cultural wedding would be best."

"Whatever the boys want," William agreed. "After all, it's not like you and I were getting married."

Naomi laughed and fluttered a hand in front of William's face. "Wouldn't that shock the boys? That would make them brothers."

"Hmmm," William mused. "Brothers couldn't get married."

"Well, they'd only be step-brothers," Naomi corrected. "But I suppose they'd feel a little strange." She tittered behind a raised hand. "I guess that idea's out." She turned her sunny smile back on William. "But it was a lovely thought."

Thursday:

"Yes, I know it's very short notice," Naomi said. "I really appreciate you going out of your way to squeeze this in, Rabbi Gutmann."

Could you get them to come in for a marriage consultation? I really prefer to talk to the couple before performing the ceremony.

"Oh, I don't know, Rabbi," Naomi hedged. "Jim and Blair are both really busy. Jim works all hours--he's a detective, you know. And Blair works irregular hours at the University. It would be hard to find a time they could come in together."

How about Saturday evening? the Rabbi suggested.

"I'll try, but I can't promise," Naomi answered.

Tell them seven o'clock, then, Rabbi Gutmann said. I'll look forward to seeing them.

"Thank you, Rabbi. I'll tell them. Good-bye." Naomi hung up the phone and sat back with a sigh. It wasn't going to be easy to get the two stubborn men into a rabbi's office for a marriage consultation, but if anyone could manage, she was it.

She was reaching for the phone to call Blair, when it rang. "Hello? Naomi Sandburg speaking."

Naomi? William Ellison's voice sounded from the other end of the connection. I'm glad I caught you. I was just given tickets for tonight's performance of 'Les Miserables' at the Cascade Centre for the Performing Arts. I was hoping to convince you to join me for dinner and the play.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Bill! Les Miserables is a favorite of mine!"

It's all set, then. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty.

"But I've still got so much I need to do for the wedding," Naomi fussed. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

Nonsense. You still have two more days. I'll help. Everything will be ready on time.

"If you're sure?"

Absolutely. I'll see you this evening.

After saying their good-byes, Naomi hung up the phone. Her hand hovered over the receiver, waiting to remember who she was supposed to call. When the memory didn't pop up right away, she sighed, deciding it must not have been all that important. What was important, was getting ready for this evening. Naomi was not a vain woman, but if she was to be attending a Broadway play at the Art Centre, then she might as well be dressed for the part. Picking up her purse, she headed for the door.

Later that evening:

"Dad! Come on in." Jim ushered his father into the apartment. "Naomi is still getting ready. She should be out in a minute." Keeping his voice low, he leaned toward William. "Thanks a lot for doing this. By tomorrow afternoon, we won't have to worry about Naomi's plans anymore. We really appreciate you keeping her occupied."

"It's my pleasure, Jimmy," William said, smiling. "Naomi is an amazing woman."

"Dad. . . ." There was a warning note in Jim's voice.

William chuckled. "Don't worry, Son. I don't intend on turning your marriage into an incestuous affair. Naomi is like a breath of fresh air to your stodgy old man. I don't think I could take her for very long, though," he admitted.

Both men turned as Naomi swept into the room, followed by Blair. "You look beautiful," William greeted her. He held out his arm, and Naomi snaked hers around his elbow.

"Why, thank you, Bill." She turned to Jim and Blair, obviously puzzling over something. "There was something I needed to tell you. . . ."

"You can tell them after we get back," William said, gently tugging her toward the door.

"Oh! I remember!" Naomi beamed. "You have an appointment for a marriage consultation with Rabbi Gutmann this Saturday at seven in the evening. Bye, boys!" She waved as William escorted her out into the hallway.

Jim slowly closed the door, turning to look at his stunned partner. "Rabbi Gutmann?"

Blair shrugged and shook his head. "I haven't got a clue."

"Marriage counseling?"

"Well, it's a pretty common practice these days, considering the high divorce rate," Blair explained. "Clergy like to make sure the couples they are marrying know the duties and responsibilities involved, and are willing to make the sacrifices for a healthy marriage."

"Yeah, but we've been married in all but name for practically four years now."

"Fifteen months, actually," Blair reminded him. "But I'll give you the other three years, even though we weren't technically a couple. We did learn how to put up with each other during that time."

"So, what do you want to do about Rabbi Gutmann?"

"I'll talk to Naomi about it when I get a spare minute. Don't worry, we can work something out." Blair wandered into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Leftovers okay?"

"Anything, man. I don't have much of an appetite," Blair admitted.

"Pre-wedding jitters?" Jim grinned at his lover.

"Like that would happen!" Blair scoffed. "You know, we need to work on our vows. Like tonight, while Naomi's out."

"We'll discuss vows over dinner. I'm starving!" Jim turned to rummage through the contents of the refrigerator for their meal.

"I need to call Blair," Naomi stated as people began filing out of the auditorium during the intermission. "I forgot all about the flowers. I need to know what he'd like."

William put a restraining hand on her arm. "That can wait until tomorrow," he soothed. "I'm sure the boys have their own plans for the evening. We wouldn't want to interrupt."

Naomi blushed. "They haven't had much privacy since I've been there," she admitted. "All right. The flowers can wait until tomorrow." She settled back into her seat.

William smiled and patted her hand.

Friday morning:

"Where's Jim?" Naomi asked, coming out of the bedroom.

Blair was in the kitchen, mainlining coffee and trying to get some breakfast together for his mother. "He had to leave early. Something about a court appearance."

Naomi walked over and lifted the coffee mug from her son's resisting hand. "You shouldn't be consuming so much caffeine, Dear. It isn't good for you."

"That's okay, Mom," Blair said, rescuing his java. "I need it."

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Naomi studied her son for signs of weariness, noting the stress wrinkles around his eyes. "You need to relax," she decided. "Come on, we can meditate together." She took his hand and attempted to pull him over to the couch.

"Can't now, Naomi." Blair refused to budge. "I really have to get to the U. I've got an early class this morning."

"You'll do so much better if you take a little time out to get yourself centered."

"Mom, I really have to go. Here, I fixed you some breakfast." He pushed the buckwheat pancakes toward her. "There's orange juice in the fridge." He kissed Naomi on the cheek. "See you this afternoon."

"Blair, wait . . . Honey? There's something I have to discuss with you." Before Naomi finished speaking, the door had closed behind her departing son. Deflated, but not defeated, she sat down to her breakfast.

Blair breezed in to Major Crime around 9:30. Jim looked up from his desk. "About time. We don't want to be late for our own wedding."

"Naomi," Blair groaned. "You know how hard she is to get away from."

Jim nodded in sympathy. "Simon's got our suits in his office. We'd better get changed."

"Thanks for sneaking out early with them. I couldn't have explained the clothes."

"How did you explain my being gone so early?" Jim asked.

"I told her you had a court date." Blair shared a good laugh with Jim over that bit of obfuscation.

"Pretty good, Slick. Now, get dressed."

Friday, 10 a.m. -- Major Crime:

Naomi looked around at the busy bullpen, but couldn't locate either Jim or Blair.

Megan Connor spotted the stunning redhead, and walked up to greet her. "May I help you?"

"I'm Naomi Sandburg. . . ."

"Oh, Blair's mother! How very nice to meet you." Megan shook her hand warmly.

"I called at the university, but they said Blair had left to come here. He told me he had a class to teach this morning. I can't imagine why he'd be here. Have you seen him?"

Megan glanced down at her shoes and pursed her lips. Looking back up at Naomi, she attempted a smile. "Nope. Haven't seen him all morning."

"Is Jim in?"

"Ah, I heard he had a court date," Megan hedged.

"How about Simon Banks?" Naomi continued.

"I think he had to be at the court hearing, too," Megan explained.

Naomi looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should go down to the courthouse. Blair might be there, too."

"Oh, no," Megan put in quickly, shifting her position so as to put herself between Naomi and the exit. "Blair had no reason to be there. I'm sure he must still be at the university. It's a big campus, you know."

"I suppose," Naomi said with a hint of doubt in her voice. "If you see Blair today, would you please tell him to call me as soon as possible?"

"Will do," Megan agreed.

Naomi brushed past the Australian blockade, and swept out the door.

"Oh, Bill. It was so nice of you to agree to meet me." Naomi smiled up at the elder Ellison. "I couldn't find either Blair or Jim, and I really needed some assistance. Which do you like better: orchids or lilies?"

"Lilies are for funerals," William grumbled.

"Then orchids it is," Naomi decided. "White ones." She turned toward the clerk in the florist shop. "Have you got some of those lovely tropical flowers? You know: the red, heart-shaped ones?"

The man turned to a refrigerated case behind him and brought out a flower. "Do you mean Anthuriums?"

"That's the one! Isn't that just beautiful, Bill? Wouldn't it go nicely with the orchids?" Naomi enthused.

William shook his head. "Tropicals would cost a fortune, as well as being hard to get in large numbers on short notice. How about a centerpiece of white roses, with a single Anthurium in the center, set off by smaller bouquets of red roses and baby's breath on the tables?"

"That would be wonderful! And the boys could each wear an orchid in their lapels."

"What about the bower? Will you need flowers for that, as well?" William asked.

Naomi was thoughtful. "We could cover it with white tulle, tied back with sprays of roses."

William turned to the clerk. "We'll need the flowers Sunday morning." The clerk blanched. William tossed his Platinum American Express card onto the counter.

"Y - yes, sir. We'll have to do some special ordering, but the flowers will be ready."

"Deliver them to the Holden Park Arboretum no later than ten in the morning. The wedding is at one o'clock, and everything has to be set by then."

As they were exiting the florist's shop, Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. "Now all we have to do is find a caterer."

"Not a problem," William assured her. "I've got a lot of contacts in that area."

Friday, 10 a.m. --
the County Courthouse, Room 214:

Jim and Blair stood before Judge Marks in his office at the courthouse. Simon had accompanied his friends to act as witness and best man.

"Gentlemen, it's good to see you," the judge began. "It has always been my pleasure to be able to join a couple in marriage, especially in cases such as yours, where the state won't legally sanction the union.

"I understand that you have already done everything legally available to you to bind yourselves together, so this ceremony is merely a formality. Your love has already stood the test of time, and now you stand together, ready to make a long-term commitment in front of God and witnesses.

"Do you have rings to exchange?"

Simon pulled the matching gold bands from his pocket, and handed them to the judge.

"Thank you." Judge Marks nodded toward Simon. "Now, you told me you've written your own vows to exchange?"

"Yes, we have," Jim answered.

"Then, by all means, be my guest." Judge Marks smiled, nodding at Jim to continue.

Jim turned to Blair and picked up both his hands, clasping them lightly in his larger ones. "Since the day you walked into my life in your torn jeans and electric blue vest, I knew there was something special about you. You waltzed into my isolated life and made yourself comfortable, despite everything I said or did to try and dissuade you. As the months and years passed, I came to realize how indispensable you are to me. I love you more than I love my own life. I pledge you my life, my love, through all the trials and blessings our lives together will bring, until death parts us." He took the plain gold band from the judge's hand, and slipped it on the third finger of Blair's left hand.

In turn, Blair took Jim's hands and looked up into pale blue eyes filled with love. "From the day I met you, I knew that I loved you. You came into my life like a catapult, throwing me into a world I never imagined existed. I don't ever want off this roller coaster ride. Through everything life has thrown us, you've been there to catch me. I love you with all of my being, with the very essence of my soul. I pledge you my life, my love, through all the trials and blessings our lives together will bring, until death parts us and we meet again on the other side." With trembling hands, he slipped the matching gold band on Jim's finger.

Judge Marks smiled at the couple as they turned back to face him, hand in hand. "Your vows bind you to each other more profoundly than any law or piece of paper ever could. Remember them when times of trial come between you, and threaten your union. You are committed to each other through this lifetime and into the next.

"All that's left, gentlemen, is to seal your vows. . . ."

Jim took the hint and pulled Blair into a tight embrace, leaning down to capture the mouth waiting for him in a passionate kiss. When they finally broke apart, they found Judge Marks and Simon staring at them, smiling. A light blush colored their cheeks.

"With the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you life partners. Congratulations." The judge shook the hands of all three men.

"Thank you, Sam," Jim said as his turn came to shake hands with the judge. "That was exactly what we'd hoped for."

"Good luck to you both," Samuel Marks intoned. "From what I hear through the grapevine, you're going to need it if Blair's mother is still in town."

"You don't know the half of it!" Blair laughed. "You'll keep this under wraps, right?"

"That was the deal," the judge agreed. "And I'll show up at your wedding on Sunday, as planned." He paused briefly, then asked, "Just where will the two of you be? You're not going through with this farce of a wedding, are you?"

"We'll be jetting to Cancun, courtesy of Jim's father, before my mother even knows we're gone," Blair told him, grinning widely.

Marks just shook his head and smiled. "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when you get back."

"Oh, don't worry. I can handle Mom." Blair clasped Jim's hand tightly and turned to go. "Thanks again."

"It was my pleasure," Judge Marks repeated as the small entourage walked out of his office.

Once out in the hallway, Simon turned to the couple. "Now what?"

Jim and Blair were both busy pulling off the wedding bands and tucking them safely into their jacket pockets. "Back to business as usual," Jim told him. "We've got to pretend nothing has changed for the next two days."

"When is your flight to Cancun?" Simon asked.

"We have to be at the airport by 9:00 a.m.," Blair answered. "The plane leaves at 11:00."

"Your mother should be plenty busy with the last minute wedding plans. You sure she won't miss you?"

"We've got that covered," Jim explained. "My father will run interference for us."

"He's a brave man," Simon said with a chuckle.

Friday evening:

"Where were you this morning?" Naomi asked suspiciously.

"At the U, like I told you," Blair answered as honestly as he could. He had after all, been there part of the morning, and the entire afternoon. After returning briefly to Major Crime to change back into his work apparel, he had returned to Rainier to teach his afternoon class.

"I tried to get a hold of you this morning, around 9:30, and was told that you'd left."

Blair's mind raced. "I, uh, needed to run an errand off campus. I was back by eleven. What did you want?"

"I was hoping to get your opinion on the flowers for the wedding," Naomi told him. "But Bill was nice enough to accompany me to the florist shop, and we got everything figured out."

"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you--we want to keep it short and simple?"

"Blair, Sweetie, we have over a hundred confirmed guests. They're expecting a wedding, and that means flowers, food . . ." She paused briefly to reflect. "Does old Liebowitz still have a deli down on 43rd and Pioneer?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah. It's a little out of the way, but it's a favorite of mine for lunch."

"I'll call him about the food. Oh!" she said, remembering. "I'd better call Bill and see if he's contacted a caterer yet. There's just so much to do, and so little time left!"

"Mom, just calm down. Center yourself. Breathe deeply." Blair began the deep breathing exercises, and Naomi fell into step with him. "That's great. Don't worry. Everything will work out fine." He turned at the sound of the door. "Hey, Jim! Welcome home."

Jim walked over and placed a quick peck on the waiting lips, then slid an arm around Blair's waist. "What's going on?"

"Mom's gone nuts," Blair lamented. "I can't get her to call off the wedding."

"I just want this to be something special for you to remember, Dear," Naomi said. She turned to Jim. "He's been doing his best to sabotage me every step of the way."

"Did you ever consider that he really means it when he says he doesn't want a big wedding?" Jim asked, giving Naomi a pointed look.

Naomi just shook her head. "I don't think men know what they really want. You're both going to love this! Our family and friends will be there--people you haven't seen for a decade!" she said to Blair. "And Bill has been contacting the Ellison side of the family. He's been such a help to me!" Naomi stopped to look at the two men standing in front of her. "Oh, dear. You both look exhausted. Thank goodness it's the weekend. I'll heat some of that vegetable soup from a couple days ago. You'll eat a light meal, and go straight to bed. Mother's orders."

"You can handle her, huh?" Jim climbed into their bed and settled down next to his new husband.

Blair snuggled down into his favorite position beneath Jim's chin. "She's like the incoming tide. Every time you push her, she comes back in a little stronger. She can't be stopped."

"So, are you going to let her spend her life's savings on a wedding without its guests of honor?" Jim stroked the silken strands of hair, letting his hand continue past the freshly clipped ends to the smooth skin beneath.

Blair arched into the touch, sighing as the warm hand stilled over the roundness of his right buttock. "It's what she wants to do. Whether we're there or not, Naomi will make a good time of it. You don't have to worry . . . and she doesn't hold grudges." He lifted his head to capture Jim's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"I love being married to you, Mr. Sandburg," Jim panted when the kiss finally ended.

"I second that sentiment, Mr. Ellison." Blair rubbed his groin against Jim's erection--his body echoing his words. "Just remember to keep it quiet. Mom's downstairs."

Jim flopped onto his back with a groan, his desire fading, along with his erection. "Way to go, Chief. I'm gonna get you for that one."

Blair chuckled, and pulled the blankets across their bodies. "Sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to spoil our wedding night, but I figured someone should try to remember we have a guest sleeping right below us."

Jim sighed in reluctant agreement. "You'd better be prepared to be fucked senseless once we get to Cancun," he warned his lover, "because I'm getting damned horny and frustrated."

"We won't have to leave the room for the whole week, if you don't want to," Blair replied with a laugh. "I hear the hotel has excellent room service."

Saturday:

"Mom, you've got to call Rabbi Gutmann, and tell him we're not coming."

"Blair, Baby . . . Sweetheart." Naomi was pacing the room nervously. "He really insisted that you come."

"I'll go by myself, then," Blair decided.

"No, no." Naomi stopped in front of her son. "Jim has to go, too. It's counseling for couples who are getting married. You both have to be there."

"It's too late to back out of the marriage now," Blair explained, trying to sound reasonable. "You've made all the plans, got everything pulled together in less than a week. . . . That's pretty incredible, you know? You could get a job as a wedding consultant."

"Don't even joke about it," Naomi muttered, sounding like she was down to her last nerve. "I wouldn't go through this for anybody but my own son!" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently. "Why can't you just cooperate for a change? You've tried to stop this wedding every step of the way."

Blair guided his mother over to the couch and pressed her down. Settling beside her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Mom, I told you a week ago that Jim and I just wanted a simple ceremony in front of a judge. You and Simon were going to be our witnesses. We didn't want to advertise our relationship to the whole world. This was supposed to be just for us."

"And I ruined your plans," Naomi said with a sigh, her shoulders drooping.

"You meant well," Blair assured her. "It's just that sometimes you don't listen when I talk. This big wedding is all about what you want, not what Jim and I want."

"I'm so sorry, Baby. Can you forgive me?"

Blair sighed, then took a deep breath and stared his mother down. "Do you suppose you could stop calling me 'Baby'? I grew up years ago. You have to learn to let go. I can make my own decisions now, and marrying Jim is the most important one I've made so far. It's a good fit, Mom. Jim knows me better than you do, and I know him. The idea of a ceremony is recent, but the idea of being married started a long time ago. We're way beyond counseling."

"I can see that, now," Naomi whispered, wiping at a tear trailing down her cheek. "I'll call Rabbi Gutmann and explain."

"Thanks, Mom."

Sunday, mid-morning:

Naomi flitted around the arboretum, making sure all the arrangements were in place. The bower and flowers had been delivered. Max Liebowitz was preparing the cold cuts at the buffet table. The guests were beginning to arrive, and the gift table was filling up.

William Ellison walked over and wrapped an arm around Naomi's waist. "Everything is just fine. Why don't you come over here and sit for a minute?" He guided her over to one of the park benches scattered among the flower beds.

"There's just so much," Naomi sighed. "I almost wish I hadn't pushed the boys into this."

"Did Blair speak with you yesterday?" William asked. "I know he and Jim were trying their best to get you to cancel this whole shindig."

Naomi dropped her head and stared at her hands, which rested on her lap. "I really feel awful. Blair was so disappointed with me." She looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "I didn't listen to him. This whole wedding was for me, not him."

William took his handkerchief and dabbed at Naomi's eyes, then handed her the soft cloth. "Well, we'll just have to make the most of it, then. After all, once the invitations were out, there wasn't much you could do to stop it."

"I suppose." Naomi sniffled, then lifted her head and looked around. "Shouldn't Blair and Jim be here by now? I hope everything is okay."

"Knowing Jim, he's probably avoiding this place for as long as humanly possible," William snorted. "And Blair is probably telling him to just buck up and take it like a man."

Naomi chuckled at the mental picture that presented. She wiped at her eyes and her dripping nose. "That would be my boy, all right," she sniffled.

"So, why don't you take the same advice?" William stood and offered her his arm. "Let's go greet our guests."

"You're absolutely right." Naomi got up and squared her shoulders, hooking her arm through that of her escort.

11:00 a.m. --
Cascade International Airport:

"Man, am I ever glad to finally board the plane," Blair exclaimed, settling into the window seat of the Boeing 737's first class section. "At least now I know that we escaped Naomi's evil plans."

"Is that any way to talk about your own mother?" Jim scolded, sitting in the seat next to Blair.

"Oh, yeah," Blair sighed with feeling. "I am so looking forward to a week far away from home after what we've been through."

The captain came on over the intercom, as the first class cabin attendant stood at the front of the aisle, holding a demonstration seat belt. When the pre-flight instruction was finished, the attendant strapped herself into her seat, and the plane began to taxi down the runway.

Jim reached over to clasp Blair's hand, smiling.

1:00 p.m. Sunday afternoon:

"Where are they?" Naomi's voice was a stressed whisper. The guests were all seated. Rabbi Gutmann stood in front of the bower, next to Judge Samuel Marks. Soothing strains of classical music floated on the breeze from the string quartet seated to the right of the clergy. "They should be here by now. Nobody has seen or heard anything."

William pulled her aside, and handed her an envelope. "What's this?" Naomi asked, turning the envelope over and over in her hands. The only thing written on the outside was her name, in Blair's handwriting.

"Why don't you open it, and see?" William asked gently.

"I - I don't know if I want to find out." Naomi's voice was tremulous. "Do you know what this is about?"

William nodded. "Just open it. It's not going to bite."

Naomi slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the stationery inside. She unfolded the note, staring at her son's handwriting for a few moments, without really seeing. Finally, she began to read:

Naomi refolded the note and looked up at William. Slowly, a smile began to spread across her face. She slipped an arm through her companion's offered elbow, and allowed herself to be escorted back to the bower. She had a few quiet words with the waiting clergy, then turned to the crowd of guests.

"It would seem our guests of honor had other plans. They had their ceremony Friday morning, and are currently on a plane to Cancun for a week-long honeymoon." There was a mixture of disappointment and amusement from the guests.

Naomi rallied the crowd. "Jim and Blair would be disappointed if we let all this wonderful food and music go to waste. We are all gathered here to celebrate their union, and even though they aren't here to enjoy it with us, I think we should still have the party. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starved!" She stepped down from the raised platform, and headed to the buffet table. She was soon followed by the family and friends of the newlyweds.

Somewhere in the skies over the continental United States:

"Umph. Hey, watch the elbow," Blair grumbled, pulling up his pants.

Jim jostled for position in the jetliner's cramped bathroom. "Sorry. These things weren't made to accommodate one person, much less two."

"You're the one who wanted to join the 'Mile High Club'," Blair pointed out.

"I didn't hear any complaints from you," Jim countered, buckling his belt before pulling up his zipper.

"Oh, I'm not complaining, man," Blair said with a playful grin. "But I do think we should wait until we get to Cancun before we have sex again."

"But it's almost an eleven-hour flight," Jim pouted. "I'm not sure I can wait that long."

"I'll make it worth your while," Blair promised. "Now, you leave first. I'll follow in a few minutes."

"You'll make it worth my while, huh?" Jim's pout turned to an anticipatory grin.

"I brought along flavored lube and massage oils--all sentinel-tested," Blair assured him. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

"I'll hold you to it," Jim said sternly, shaking a finger in Blair's face. He opened the door, and practically fell out into the aisle. After recovering his balance, he headed back to his seat.

A few minutes later, Blair emerged, and went to sit next to his partner who was blushing furiously. "What's the matter?"

Jim opened his fist to reveal two one-inch-square lapel pins. On the front was a picture of a jet, and emblazoned over it were the words "Member: Mile High Club."

Much to Jim's chagrin, Blair burst out laughing. "Busted!" he crowed, winking at the laughing attendants.

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