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B.J Sandburg Part Thirty-Two.
"Steven's dropped the truck off," Jim commented as he pulled into their spot, nodding to the truck parked nearby. He switched the engine off with a grateful flick. "Home," he sighed.
Blair leaned back against the headrest. "I'm exhausted," he groaned. "I feel like I walked all the way back from Alto."
"Let's just get the twins upstairs," Jim suggested. "We'll worry about the luggage later."
Blair glanced at his watch. "We're pushing our luck with their feeding time as it is."
As if on cue Jordan stirred as he unbuckled her capsule and lifted it from the backseat. Ammie was also disturbed as Jim lifted the crib-like capsule out and grabbed the bag with their formula and diapers.
"The loft is gonna be musty after being locked up all this time." Jim stroked Ammie's cheek as she screwed her face up, still too young to do more than mewl a little in complaint when hungry.
Blair pushed the lift button. "And we have no food, and we still have to make up formula for the twins," he sighed wearily.
Jim went ahead on their floor and unlocked the door, stopping in surprise as it swung open. Instead of the fusty smell of a home locked up for months, he was greeted by the fresh scent of polish and a cool breeze. He cautiously searched with his senses, finding the loft reassuringly empty.
Blair stepped past him in the doorway, walking straight to a note placed prominently on the bench. "Steven's been here and opened up," he said in delight, lifting Jordan's capsule up and placing it on the bench. He absently caressed her face, stroking her lip and letting her nurse on the tip of his finger for a moment. "And Megan's made us a casserole," he read on. "It's in the refrigerator."
Jim put Ammie's capsule next to her sisters. "Megan cooked?"
Blair chuckled. "Apparently."
"Great, kangaroo stew for lunch."
"I'm so hungry that actually sounds good," Blair said, then yawned.
"Go sit down," Jim ordered, gently grasping his shoulders and steering him toward the couch. "I'll make up the formula and then we can get these two ravening beasts fed."
Blair glanced in amusement at the beasts in question. Ammie was frowning unhappily, and Jordan was pursing her lips and sucking air, obviously in hopes her dinner would magically appear there.
Jim boiled water to sterilise the bottles and mixed the formula with a deft hand, glancing worriedly over at Blair who was sitting back in the corner of the couch with his eyes closed. The younger man insisted on keeping up with Jim, taking on tasks that were still too much for him so soon after major surgery.
Propping the bottles in the capsules Jim carried the twins over to Blair, laying them on the floor.
"Portable babies," Blair joked with a yawn.
"And here's yours," Jim returned, undoing the velcro belt and gently lifting Ammie out, cradling her fragile head and laying her in Blair's arms. Then he handed him the warm bottle.
At just over five pounds Ammie was still tiny enough to rest in the crook of his arm easily. Blair automatically tested the heat of the bottle on his wrist and then stroked her pink lips with the teat, leaving behind a smear of milk. She smacked her lips and then eagerly fastened on. He chuckled in delight, leaning back and watching as she suckled with half-closed eyes.
Jim unfastened Jordan's belt and scooped her up, holding her against his shoulder with one arm as he grabbed the bottle with the other and joined Blair on the couch. "They're feeding a bit faster," he noted, cradling Jordan and feeding her the bottle.
"Tummy's growing too," Blair smiled, patting the little round belly.
Jim stroked Jordan's tummy thoughtfully, slipping a hand under her soft little shirt to touch the smooth skin. Her navel protruded, the last of her umbilical cord still clinging, dried and withered.
"Have you noticed their ears?" Blair said softly, stroking Ammie's lobes gently.
Jim followed his gesture, absorbed as always during feeding time in every sight and sound of their babies. "The shape's coming in," he noted.
"They're forming the cartilage," Blair said in wonderment. "That they didn't have time to form in my womb because they were premature."
"Jordan's got pixie ears," Jim chuckled lowly.
Blair looked over and chuckled. "I thought all newborns looked alike," he said. "But these two are totally different, aren't they?"
Jim nodded agreement. "More so as they get older."
"Older," Blair repeated with a huff of laughter. "Lives still measured in days and weeks."
"Growing quickly enough for me," Jim retorted.
"Identical twins would have been fun," Blair said, wiping at a dribble of milk on Ammie's chin.
"They're individuals," Jim pointed out. He looked from Jordan's already dark hair to the tinges of red gold in the fluff on Ammie's tiny skull. "No one will ever get these two confused."
Blair yawned so hard his jaw cracked and his eyes watered. "You three can all nap together," Jim ordered. "While I bring the luggage up."
"You must be tired too," Blair protested sleepily.
Jim leaned over and stroked Blair's cheek. "I could go twenty more hours on just a cup of coffee," he boasted gently. "And have. You're the one-"
"Recovering from major surgery," Blair sighed. "I know. I just feel like I've slept the last year of my life away."
"Just the last few months," Jim corrected.
Blair raised one eyebrow. "Well that's all right then," he said wryly.
"You'll get your strength back," Jim assured him.
Blair looked down at the bundle in his arms. "I'm gonna need it."
********
The babies fed and burped, Jim lay them back in their capsules, one on each side of the downstairs bed.
"You sure you can manage?" Blair yawned, curling up on top of the covers.
Jim leaned over him, stroking his wayward curl back. "You're hair's so long now," he said softly.
Blair blinked up at him sleepily. "Needs a trim."
"I like it long," Jim murmured. He was tempted to lean just that little bit further and try another kiss, but he squashed the urge. He'd sworn to take things slowly with Blair, and he wanted to keep that promise.
Long lashed eyes were drifting closed, and Jim watched him drift away, then glanced at the babies, both sleeping in repletion.
********
Two loads of luggage later Jim made one more trip downstairs, unbuckling the safety restraints from the back seat. Then he checked over the rental car, making sure they hadn't left anything behind, and that it was spic and span for Steven to pick up in the morning.
"Jim?" A little round woman poked her head around the corner of the store below the building as he passed by.
"Hi, Mrs. C," Jim nodded.
"You're back then," Mrs. Carver said, stepping out of the door. She patted his arm sympathetically. "How are you?"
Jim nodded again. "Getting there."
Mrs. Carver smiled bracingly. "I never doubted it." She glanced over her shoulder. "I have box of mail in here for you, Jim, and some parcels too."
"Mail?" Jim frowned. "I had the mail forwarded while we were away."
"This wasn't regular mail," Mrs. Carver called out, disappearing into the store. "People were dropping things off for days."
Jim stepped into the store, squinting in the dim light after the bright sunlight outside. Racks of dresses lined the walls, and the back wall was hung with hats and filmy scarves.
"Flowers too," Mrs. Carver said, bustling out with a box. "I don't know what they were thinking with the flowers, had to thrown them away after a few days of course."
"What is all this?" Jim frowned down at the envelopes and small parcels.
"Lots of people hanging around after... well, after we got the news," Mrs. Carver said sadly. "Neighbours, people you've helped. B.J made a lot of friends around here, even in the short time she was here."
Jim looked down at the box. "I know."
Mrs. Carver patted his arm again. "It wasn't just well-wishers hanging around." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Reporters too. Found 'em poking around outside your door one day."
Jim looked up alertly. "Reporters? Are you sure?"
Mrs. Carver nodded sourly. "I'm sure. One of them offered me money, can you believe it? I called Mr. Carver here and he watched the place for a while."
"I really appreciate that," Mrs. C," Jim said gratefully. "Thank your husband for me too, will you?"
"Sure," Mrs. Carver dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I was pretty fond of B.J myself." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "So, when am I going to get to see these babies of yours?" she sniffed, smiling.
"Whenever you like," Jim invited.
********
Jim sat on the stairs and examined the letters and parcels one by one, sniffing them and tracing their surfaces with his sensitive fingers. Eventually he began to open them, pulling out cards and letters, scented with rose petals, soft pastels and snowy whites.
One or two were odd or offensive and he put them aside scornfully. Others were so full of genuine feeling that they bought tears to his eyes. Slipping his fingers into one white envelope he tugged out a photograph and stared down at it in surprise.
B.J was standing with a group of people in front of one of the buildings at Rainier. The letter slipped from Jim's fingers as he gazed at the picture, absorbing every detail of that face, tracing the surface with his fingers. He frowned, trying to understand what he was feeling.
He didn't miss B.J. She'd never even existed.
But maybe it was time to admit that he did miss the easy relationship he'd built up with Blair while B.J had been in the world. Jim looked up, gazing through the glass doors to the street outside. It had all been so easy with Blair then. A man and a woman, destined to fit together, fall in love, make a family.
Now Blair was a man again, and being in love with each other would never be easy. There was world out there waiting to scorn them for that alone. And their family existed, but Blair was yet to come to terms with his part in it, as seen by that outside world.
Did they still fit together? Jim pondered that thought for long moments, turning it over in his mind. He believed they did, but they both had to relearn that. The casual familiarity of long time lovers now felt awkward, as they each rediscovered their boundaries.
Jim found he could mourn that easiness, but that he still held out hope they would rediscover it again. After all, they'd always been friends and they would be lovers again.
He looked back down at the picture, tracing its shiny surface fondly. They'd had a year of easy, but now that time was over. Anything worth having was worth fighting for, and even if they had to fight like hell for every moment they had together, it would be worth it.
Blair was worth it. They were worth it.
Bundling the cards and letters back in the box Jim jumped up. The casserole in the oven upstairs was beginning to smell good, and he had a lot to do before Blair and the twins woke up.
********
"No way did Megan cook this," Blair exclaimed, licking the spoon. "I still remember that Christmas dip she made. If a person can't even put together a packet mix and cream cheese without poisoning half the police force, there's no way she could make this."
Jim savoured the last mouthful. "I think she's been holding out on us, Chief."
Casting his eyes at his watch Blair leaned forward on his elbows. "Okay, Jim, the way I see it we have two choices. You can go out and try to buy a baby bath at eight-thirty at night, or..." He jerked a thumb towards the kitchen. "Or we can bathe them in the sink." He raised a brow.
Jim considered this for a moment. It wasn't a difficult choice. "I'll scrub the sink and you get the pods," he ordered.
Blair chuckled as he carried Ammie over to the bench in her capsule. "You're not a pod, are you, sweetie? You're a person." Blue eyes stared up at him myopically. "And you're gonna have your bath, aren't you?"
"Don't you break into baby talk," Jim warned.
"How can I resist?" Blair smirked down into Ammie's face.
"Try," Jim said dryly. He wiped the double sinks down and dropped the plugs in. "Two sinks, two babies," he said smugly.
Blair unbuttoned the tiny romper, carefully threading out tiny arms and legs. He examined her little navel as he unfastened her diaper. "Does this look okay to you?"
Jim was testing the water with sensitive fingers. He focused on the withered cord still attached to the navel. "It looks a little red," he noted. "But that's not unusual, is it?"
"Remind me to check the book," Blair said, lifting her up and gently lowering her into the water.
"Jordan's is the same," Jim called as he carried her over. "They're not infected though, I'd be able to smell that."
"How do the twins smell to you?" Blair asked curiously, gently splashing water on his baby's legs.
"Probably pretty much the way they smell to everyone else." Jim chuckled, pulling off Jordan's romper. "Like milk, and powder." He slanted a twinkling glance over at Blair. "And you. Okay, rabbit butt," Jim teased, scooping up his little bundle. "Into the tub."
They stood side by side, cradling the babies' heads as they soaped them up and rinsed them off.
"So," Blair said, bumping Jim's hip with his own. "Is this our life now?"
Jim bumped back. "Looks like."
Blair bumped him again. "So you're all right with that?"
Jim chuckled. "Be all the same if I wasn't, wouldn't it, Chief."
"I'm serious here, Jim," Blair said in exasperation, lifting Ammie out and laying her on a thick towel.
"Me too," Jim protested. "Bathing babies in the sink is our life now. Until we get a bath."
"And all the rest of it?" Blair questioned, carefully dabbing Ammie's tender skin. "Feedings all night, diapers, rashes, potty training..."
"Woah there, Chief," Jim laughingly protested. "Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?" He lifted Jordan out of the water and swaddled her in her towel, then cradled her against his chest. "I'm having a ball here, aren't you?"
Blair wrapped Ammie and lifted her. "Oh yeah," he said wryly. "Filling these tummies every four hours, night and day. Already got a pail full of diapers to wash." He smiled down into Ammie's yawning face. "Are we having fun yet?"
Jim chuckled. "Are we?"
"Ask me again at midnight," Blair laughed.
********
"So," Blair said, bleary eyed, leaning in the doorway with one twin over his shoulder. "We having fun yet?"
Jim tried to blink his eyes further open. "What?" Ammie mewled and cried in his arms, her tiny lungs managing to produce enough sound to let them now in no uncertain terms she was hungry. The water slowly warmed and Jim held his free hand over the top of the pan. He was learning to tell when the water temperature was just right to heat the bottles of formula.
"I said," Blair broke off and yawned widely. "Forget it."
"Bottle's ready," Jim pronounced. "Here, hold this." He laid Ammie on Blair's other shoulder and waited until he was holding her securely.
They sat side by side on the couch as they fed them, eyes half closed in the dim midnight moonlight shining through the windows. The lights of the city twinkled against the sky, and the water of the bay slapped gently against the dock below.
"How do people do this and then get up to go to work the next day?" Jim groaned softly.
"I thought you could go twenty hours at a stretch on just the smell of a cup of coffee?" Blair teased. Jordan grunted in his arms, dribbling milk down her chin.
"It's not my preferred method of operation," Jim said dryly.
"Well it's something we gotta think about," Blair pointed out. "Your leave won't last forever, and I have to go back to work soon." He gazed down at Jordan lovingly. "We have to figure out what we're gonna do."
"I've been thinking about that, Chief," Jim said slowly. "Being a detective has meant a lot to me. And the pay's not bad. But the hours are lousy."
Blair was staring at him in surprise. "What are you saying, Jim?"
"Maybe it's time for a change," Jim said thoughtfully.
Blair gaped at him. "But, Jim," he began. "Being a cop is who you are. Sentinel of the Great City, remember? Tribal protector?"
"I have a new tribe now," Jim said significantly. "And I have to think about what's best for us."
Blair studied him incredulously. "Maybe you should think about this a bit more."
"Nothing's carved in stone yet, Chief," Jim advised him, tugging the teat from Ammie's still pursed lips. She suckled a few more times, curling her hand under her chin. He gently lifted her and patted her back until she burped richly. "Maybe I've just had enough of the Drews in the world," he mused softly. "That maniac wanted to take you from me. He threatened the pods." He kissed the top of Ammie's fluffy hair.
Blair automatically cradled Jordan closer.
"Maybe the next maniac will be luckier," Jim said somberly. "I don't want to take that risk."
Blair nodded thoughtfully. "So, what would you do?"
Jim shrugged. "Good question."
End of Party Thirty-Two.
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