|
B.J Sandburg Part Twenty-Nine
Jim patted the weeping woman on the arm uncomfortably.
"God bless you and your little ones," she sobbed.
"Uh, thank you," Jim said, backing through the door. "Thanks." With a sigh of relief he closed the door behind him and the clinic's security guard nodded as he took his place in front of it.
"The nurses really liked Mrs. Ellison," the guard said awkwardly. "I did too. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Jim said quietly, fleeing down the hall.
"I hate this so much," Jim declared as he escaped to the sanctuary of the hospital room. B.J might be gone, but Paul was letting them stay in the clinic to be near the twins and escape the pressures of the press.
Blair looked up from his seat against the bed head. He had one of the babies cradled in his arms and was feeding her from a bottle.
"Can you believe the nurse didn't want to leave the twins here for me to feed?" he complained. "I had to swear you were coming straight back and then threaten to call Paul."
"They don't understand your position here," Jim explained, tugging off his tie and jacket.
"Tell me about it," Blair said unhappily. "I want to go home, Jim. Where no one will question my right to hold my own children."
"I know, Chief," Jim said gently. He leaned over and scooped the other baby up, cuddling her close to his chest and dropping a kiss on her brow. "Hey there, darlin'. You a hungry girl? Hmm?" He sat on the end of the bed and popped the bottle into her mouth. "And I want to get away from cameras pushed in my faces and weeping strangers."
"I was thinking Rachael," Blair broached out of the blue.
Jim frowned, picking up his train of thought instantly. This discussion was now a familiar one. "But I thought you liked Ruth? I don't want them to have names starting with the same letter. It's too cutesy."
"But they are cuties, aren't you, sweetheart?" Blair crooned down into the baby's face.
Simon pushed open the door and came in, shaking his head incredulously. "It's a circus out there," he exclaimed. He held out a newspaper, flicking it open so Jim could see the front page.
"Where the hell did they get that?" Jim cursed, studying the huge photograph of B.J cradling the twins.
"That was the photo pinned to the wall in ICU," Blair realised. He peered over at the paper. "Damn, look at me in that! I look like hell!"
"Can we concentrate here?" Simon said impatiently. "This story has captured a nations heart," he continued sourly. "Which as we all know means the media is beating this up into the sob story of the year."
"Do you think they stole it or paid someone for it?" Blair said, still craning his neck to study the grainy picture.
"Forget the picture, Sandburg," Simon bit out. "We have bigger worries."
"The press will get tired of milking this, Simon," Jim predicted. "A bigger story will come along."
"A twice decorated cop and war hero's beautiful young wife is murdered just days after life saving surgery delivering tiny twin girls," Simon paraphrased from the article.
"I don't look too beautiful in that picture," Blair complained.
Simon clenched his teeth. "What if the press start looking into her background?" he ground out. "And they find she doesn't have one?"
"She has one, Simon," Blair reminded him. "Just not a real one."
"Look, Captain," Jim placated. "As far as anyone knows B.J was the child of hippie parents raised on communes. So there's very little background for them to probe."
"And the press are playing the tragedy angle," Blair continued. "They're not looking to rake up some scandal about the poor victim."
"You hope." Simon threw himself into an armchair. "You two seem to have this all figured out," he said moodily.
"It's not like we had a choice here, Simon," Jim said. "Once I overheard Drew's accomplice saying the police were looking for B.J it was obvious she had to die."
"It was pretty fast thinking actually," Blair complimented.
"Between one heartbeat and the next," Jim retorted. "What was I supposed to do? Escape from my captors and tell everyone to stop looking for B.J? She's not dead or anything, you just won't get to see her ever again." He shrugged, remembering the desperation of those moments.
"Necessity is the mother of lying your head off," Blair inserted.
"But it doesn't help when I have to show a grieving face to the world," Jim said quietly, tugging the nipple from the baby's mouth and laying her gently over his hand. He didn't even have to pat her back before she was burping richly. "Good girl," Jim praised with a smile.
"Bet they could hear that one outside," Simon chuckled.
Jim stood and carried her over to Simon and deposited her in his arms. "Here, this'll cheer you up." He hesitated then turned and dropped a towel on Simon's suit. "Watch out for puke," he advised.
"It's been a long time since I held one this small," Simon said nervously, hands automatically cradling the little nodding head. She blinked up at him sleepily, blurry eyes still a bright navy blue. Simon studied her with growing delight. "Actually I don't think I've ever held one this small. Daryl was twenty-one inches along when he was born."
"Long skinny one," Blair chuckled.
"Still is," Simon confirmed. "You two picked out names yet?"
Blair rolled his eyes.
"I like Jordan," Jim pronounced, gamely ignoring him.
"Jordan's nice," Simon agreed.
"Tell him why you like Jordan," Blair said patiently.
"I just like the name," Jim said self-consciously.
"I am not having my child named after a basketball player," Blair said firmly.
"The world's best basketball player," Jim corrected. "And if you could figure out a way to name two little girls Clyde and Drexler, then you would have thought of it first."
"Hmm, Drexler," Blair said thoughtfully.
"Forget it," Jim warned. That's worse than your last idea."
"Which was?" Simon said, rocking the dozing infant absently.
"Amelia," Blair said defiantly. "Named after the greatest woman archaeologist of all time."
"Now I ask you," Jim said reasonably. "Which is crazier, being named after Michael Jordan, or some nineteenth century broad in a pith helmet?"
"I'm not buying into this," Simon said hastily. "Why don't you just each choose a name? The beauty of having twins."
Blair looked unconvinced. "You haven't heard the other names he's chosen. I'm not going through life hating my daughter's name."
"Well, obviously not," Simon said in an exaggerated voice, cooing in the baby's face. "What silly Daddies,' he nodded to her. She yawned in agreement. "Both of you make a short list and agree on one name from each."
"Now you're the one making it sound simple," Jim pointed out. He grabbed a pen and notebook from the bedside table and scribbled a few names. "Short list, hmm?"
"No more than one basketball player," Blair ordered.
Jim glared at him and then crossed out a name. "You used to like basketball," he muttered. "Are you sure you have all your testosterone back?"
"Even as a woman I had more than some people I could name," Blair muttered back, laying his sleeping burden in her crib. Then he filched a pen and started his own list.
Jim pointed with his pen. "If I can only have one basketball player, you only get one archaeologist or anthropologist, or any kind of ologist for that matter."
Blair glared at him for a moment and then crossed out two names.
"Oh, I can see this is gonna be fun. I have one sleeping girl here," Simon whispered, rising and laying her in her crib.
Blair looked up with a sunny grin. "That's about all they do, Simon. Sleep eat and burp."
"But only when they're not puking and pooping," Jim added.
"Enjoy it while you can," Simon advised. "I'm heading back to the hotel and then I'm going home, guys."
Jim laid his pad and pen aside. "Thanks for staying as long as you could, Simon."
"The investigation's just about wrapped up anyway." Simon shrugged into his light jacket. "The Chief of Police has offered you as much time off as you need, Jim," he reminded him.
Jim nodded.
"I'd take him up on it if I were you," the captain advised.
"You don't have to tell me twice. The last thing I want to do is go back to work and face all those commiserating faces." Jim put his hand on his stomach, mouth turned down. "I feel lower than a worm. Especially with the guys from work."
Blair nodded sympathetically. "For anyone who's wondered what it would be like to attend their own funeral, I'm here to tell you, it sucks."
Simon paused at the door. "Speaking of funerals, let me know when you have the memorial service arranged." He waved and left.
Jim turned a panicked look on Blair. "Memorial service?"
Blair sighed. "I suppose there's no getting away from it."
Jim dropped his head in his hands. "Crowds of weeping mourners, camera crews. When will this end?"
Blair dropped down next to him, hand on his shoulder. "This isn't the way either of us would have planned it," he said softly. "But we will get through it."
Jim slanted him a glance. "I know," he agreed in a low voice. "But it's hard, having to put on a mournful face when all I want to do is celebrate." He smiled into Blair's wide eyes, marveling at the beautiful sapphire blue. When he gazed into those eyes it was easy to recapture every moment of magic they'd shared over the last year. Carefully he reached over and lifted Blair's free hand from his lap, holding it carefully.
He heard Blair's breath catch, and the fingers in his palm tightened, curled over and returned his pressure.
Blair studied their clasped hand s for long moments, and then looked back up at Jim, eyes full of questions and fears.
"Jim...?" he whispered. "I-"
He broke off as a knock sounded on the door.
"Hold that thought," Jim ordered. He jumped up and opened the door. "Agent Copeland," he greeted. "Come in."
The tall black Special Agent entered the room, pausing as he spotted the cribs and the sleeping infants. "I don't want to disturb you," he said hesitantly.
"Don't worry about it." Jim gestured to the armchair. "They've just eaten, nothing will wake them up now."
"I won't stay," Agent Copeland said politely. He glanced over at Blair, but like everyone else he'd grown used to the young man being at Jim's side through this so he merely nodded a greeting at him and continued. "I need you to ID these for us," he said, pulling a sealed plastic bag from his pocket and handing it over.
Jim held it up to the light, recognising the shiny blue stones right away. "They were earrings," he said quietly. "My father gave them to B.J when the twins were born." He looked away, unable to feign grief again and so choosing to close down instead.
Copeland took the bag back with a sympathetic grimace. "I'm sorry to have to bother you with this. But do you remember if your wife was wearing these the last time you saw her?"
Jim shrugged. "I'm sorry," he apologised.
"Don't worry about it," Copeland said gently. "We're just tying up loose ends."
"Is the investigation over?" Blair inserted.
Jim watched Copeland give Blair that curious look he'd been receiving for the last two days. His resemblance to B.J disconcerted the people who'd known her and his constant presence at Jim's side seemed to confuse everyone else.
"Pretty much," Copeland nodded. He glanced at the cribs. "When are you going home?"
"Another week maybe," Blair answered after a glance at Jim. "Do you think the press will have grown tired of hanging around out there?"
Copeland looked apologetic. "I'm sorry we couldn't keep them off your back better. Damned vultures."
"I appreciate everything you have done," Jim said sincerely, shaking the agent's hand firmly.
Copeland glanced at the babies again. "I'm just sorry..." He cleared his throat. "Good luck, Detective Ellison," he finished.
Jim sat back down on the bed with a thump as the door closed behind him. "I hate fooling good people," he said grimly.
"Have you seen your Dad?"
Jim shook his head grimly. "He'll be here tonight. He's taking this pretty hard."
"He'll get over it," Blair said heartlessly. "It's not like he was ever that fond of B.J anyway."
Jim looked over at him in surprise. "That's pretty hard, Chief," he protested.
"But true," Blair said evenly. "He put up with me because I was an incubator for the pods, that's all."
Jim stood up. "Look, I know you're getting stir-crazy in here, Blair," he began. "But I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't take your bad temper out on my father."
"Well here's a change," Blair muttered sarcastically. "You're the one defending your father."
"My father's never been anything but polite to you," Jim said angrily.
Blair stood to face him. "Which me?" he challenged. "The one he looked at like trailer-trash until he knew you'd done me the honour of getting me pregnant, or the one he just used to look right through?"
Jim stared in stunned amazement. "I thought you liked my father?"
"Why? Because he gave me sapphire earrings?" Blair said sarcastically.
Jim shook his head. "I don't know what's up with you today," he said coldly, feeling let down by the harsh exchange. "But I-" He paused, listening hard. "The nurses are coming to take the babies back to the Nursery," he said, turning away.
Blair answered the knock on the door and stood back as the two nurses wheeled the cribs out of the room.
Jim watched from the corner of his eye as Blair stood in the doorway and watched them disappear down the hall. "The time goes so quickly," he said wistfully.
Jim's anger faded a little. "I know it does," he said sympathetically.
Blair rubbed his forehead. "All the time I worried about B.J having to disappear," he said tonelessly. "All I could think about was what people would think of me. But I never even thought about all the things I would be losing."
"Come inside, Blair," Jim said softly.
Blair leaned against the doorframe. "How could I have thought about it? The twins weren't real enough to me then to think that far ahead."
Jim stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on his partner's shoulder.
"And now here I am. Distant relation to my own children. No rights, no title. Nothing."
Jim gently took his shoulders and steered him back into the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Then he drew him into his arms. Blair pulled away for a moment but Jim persisted.
"You'll have every right to those children that we can give you under the law," Jim swore firmly, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He couldn't even imagine how Blair must be feeling right now, and he cursed himself for his insensitivity.
Blair buried his face in Jim's shoulder. "Paul says I'm suffering from post-natal depression," came his muttered voice.
"I can't imagine why," Jim said seriously. "Major surgery, gender shifting, homicidal maniacs."
"Journalists hanging outside my window, flabby stomach," Blair continued in his muffled voice. "Leaking nipples."
"So of course you-" Jim broke off, glancing down. "Leaking nipples?"
Blair held his hand up to his chest self-consciously. "I figured you'd scent it out," he confessed.
Jim studied him in fascination. "You're still..." he hesitated.
"Lactating," Blair confirmed.
"What does Paul say about it?" Jim asked, caught between amazement and horror. It was one thing for Blair with breasts to produce milk, but something completely different for Blair with a hairy chest to have leaking nipples.
"He's given me some pills to dry it up," Blair said, looking half-regretful.
"Are you still expressing milk for the twins?"
"How would I explain that?" Blair said wryly. "Besides, Paul said without analysis we can't tell how nutritious it is."
"And here we were thinking all the weirdness was over, and all we had to deal with were the mundane details." Jim became aware he was still standing with his arms wrapped around Blair's back, and he slowly began to register the differences between holding B.J and holding Blair.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Blair accused, trying to pull away.
Jim tightened his grip a little. "Don't get all split personality on me, Chief," he warned, still listing the details in his mind. The first thing he was aware of was that his arms didn't wrap as far around the male back as the female.
"Explain to me how I should avoid a split personality, Jim?" Blair challenged. "I've gone from being pampered and cared for here, to being a hanger-on who's a bit of a nuisance."
"No one thinks that," Jim began.
Blair continued. "How can I not think like that when I see you looking at me and comparing me to her? Every time you touch me you're remembering her."
"You are her!" Jim stressed in frustration. He shook Blair's shoulders gently. "I haven't confused you and her since the very beginning. And certainly not since I fell in love with you."
Blair finally succeeded in pulling away. "But I'm not her, Jim!" he said firmly. "Look at me. I'm not her."
"What do you want me to say, Blair?" Jim said in bewilderment. "I know your outside has changed, I stood there and watched it change, remember?" He put his hand on Blair's chest. "But you're the same in here."
Blair shook his head. "Am I?"
"You tell me?" Jim challenged. "If your heart hasn't changed, if you still feel the same towards me, then say so! Tell me! But if you're just talking about your outside, then tell me that too. That's an enemy I can fight at least."
Blair bit his lip, eyes shining wetly.
Jim stepped closer, willing the right words to come to him. "Because your eyes haven't changed," he said more softly. "I was just thinking that a few minutes ago." He reached up and reverently stroked back a wing of hair.
Blair closed his eyes and swallowed hard, a tear leaking out of the corner of one eye.
"Your hair is just the same," Jim mused quietly, fingering a soft curl.
"Jim," Blair protested softly.
"Your voice is a little different. But it's still the words from your heart I hear."
"My heart..." Blair choked out.
"My heart hasn't changed, Blair," Jim whispered, feeling a tight pain in his chest. "Has yours?"
"No!" Blair protested, throwing his arms around Jim's neck. "There's so much I don't know, Jim! But I know that." He clutched Jim's back tightly. "I know that."
Jim squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "I know it too," he choked out. "I just needed to hear you say it. Blair?" he whispered. "If I'm comparing you to the way you were before, it's just me getting used to the change. Just me rediscovering this person that I love."
Blair drew back a little and gazed into Jim's eyes. "Rediscovering?" he whispered. "I think I've been doing the same thing."
Jim thought about that. "I guess you'd have to," he realised.
"It was simple enough becoming a woman," Blair said, eyes crinkling a little at the corners as he made that absurd statement. "My life hardly changed. But turning back into a man the whole world is different! I had two babies. I fell in love with a man." His voice dropped. "And now I'm a man again, and I still have two babies, and I'm still in love with a man. And I have no idea what to do next."
Jim framed his face between his hands. "Just what you're doing now," he urged. "Talk to me, tell me what you're feeling." His heart swelled in his chest. "From the beginning we've been together through this."
Blair nodded. "You've been here for me every step of the way."
"And you let me," Jim nodded. "You've shared this experience with me, and then you shared your heart and your body with me."
Blair dropped his eyes. "My heart hasn't changed," he repeated. "But my body, Jim..." His face flushed.
Jim could feel the heat through his own skin. "There's time for that, sweetheart," he murmured tenderly. "Away from the glare of spotlight. When you're recovered from your surgery."
"And my post-natal depression," Blair reminded him.
"That too," Jim chuckled lowly. "When we're back home."
"Home," Blair repeated longingly.
End of Part Twenty-Nine.
|
