The Jamie Series #5

Teaching.

by Gillan

"Hey, Blair. I'm just about wrapped up here," Joel called over from his desk. "What time are you guys leaving?"

"Jim's just dealing with some stuff in Personnel, Joel." Blair stood up and put his coat on. "We're supposed to meet him at the truck in fifteen minutes. That okay with you?"

"Sure. I appreciate you guys giving me a ride 'til I get my car back," Taggert said gratefully.

Blair waved his thanks away. "It's no problem, man, you know that. See you at the truck." The observer looked into Personnel on his way downstairs, but there was no sign of Jim. The parking garage was quiet for the time of day and Blair was a million miles away as he exited the lift. He and Jim were planning a get together for Saturday, a kind of welcome to Cascade party for Jamie, mostly at the insistence of their friends and family who hadn't met him yet, and Blair was still planning the menu in his mind.

"Shit, the things you see when you haven't got a gun."

Blair looked up in surprise at the intentionally loud whisper. Two uniformed cops were standing in front of him blocking his way.

"Wait, Bobby," the slim black cop said, as if suddenly realising something. "You do have a gun."

"Why so I do," Bobby smiled. "But I don't need a gun to handle a little faggot like this."

Blair clamped down his anger at the snide insult. "I don't want any trouble here, guys," he said placatingly.

"Trouble?" Bobby said innocently. "Too many cameras down here to cause trouble."

"Maybe sometime we'll meet where there are no cameras," the black cop drawled.

"What the hell is your problem?" Blair said, addressing the dark skinned cop. "How can you of all people discriminate against me?"

The cop named Bobby sneered and stepped closer to Blair. "Don't compare yourself to him, queer-boy. You and your sick life style disgusts us. And bringing that wetback kid into it is the sick side of ridiculous."

"Bobby," the black cop put a warning hand on his partners arm.

"My life is my business, your problems with it are yours," Blair said, feeling his rage ignite at the insult to his son. "But anytime you want to work it out this 'sick little faggot' will be glad to kick your cracker ass!"

The lift doors opened behind him and Blair didn't have to be a sentinel to know who was there. He could tell by the way all expression fell away from the cops faces and they straightened up and away from him. Skirting him politely they entered the lift. Blair turned to see Jim holding the lift doors open with one hand.

"Something going on here, Chief?" he said evenly. Joel stood beside him looking grim. Blair assumed a bored look and shrugged casually.

"Nothing important, Jim," he said deliberately, seeing anger again dawn in the uniformed cop's eyes.

Jim swept his gaze over the other cops and he nodded. "I see what you mean," he said in an amused tone, and let the doors close.

"Whew," Joel said. "You could cut that atmosphere with a knife."

Jim's hand was on his shoulder and Blair longed to turn into the comfort of his arms but he restrained himself.

"You okay, Blair?" Jim said quietly.

"Yeah," Blair covered Jim's hand for a moment. "It was just talk, man."

"You guys are playing a dangerous game, taunting fools like that," Joel said seriously.

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder and then let him go, leading the way to the truck.

"I'm not going to let those creeps intimidate me," Blair said more loudly than he intended. He felt himself flush and attempted to control his temper. "Sorry," he apologized.

Now Joel patted him on his shoulder as Jim unlocked the truck. "It's okay, Blair, I understand. I would have thought better of Ethan Mackie though. I figured him for good guy."

"Is that his name? I'll never understand how someone who has known discrimination can turn around and discriminate against someone else," Blair shook his head. "But I've seen it before in tribal societies. Among every caste there are levels of discrimination."

"I was at the Eighteenth precinct when Angela and I got engaged," Joel said, buckling his seat-belt as Jim pulled out of the garage. "I was expecting some trouble, but I wasn't really prepared for how much, or how virulent some of it was. And the worst was from other black officers, brothers who should have known better."

"Must have been tough," Jim said sympathetically.

"They called me a traitor. Said my own kind wasn't good enough for me. How do you make someone like that understand that I didn't fall in love with Angela because of her color? Hell, the world being what it is I fell in love with her despite her color."

"I guess that's when you find out who your friends are," Blair quoted.

"And when your friends find out a thing or two as well," Jim agreed. The men sunk into silence as they drove. "Come on, guys," Jim said firmly. "If you let these assholes get to you you're letting them win. Chief, did you tell Joel about your party menu?"

The big man perked up. "Yeah? Doing something special, Blair?" he asked eagerly.

Blair attempted to follow his lover's lead and throw off his mood. "I have a few special delicacies planned, Joel," he smiled. "If I left it up to Jim he'd open a few bags of corn chips and buy a jar of salsa."

"We better have corn chips and salsa on hand just in case, Chief," Jim joked. "In case your 'delicacies' don't go over too well."

"Don't worry, Blair, I like everything you make."

"Good, Joel. Because as it happens I found this recipe for a low cal starter. Tzatziki, a cucumber dip. It's delicious."

"Cucumber?" Joel turned his mouth down. "Sounds healthy," he said gloomily.

They hit some traffic and Jim cursed under his breath. "I'll be glad when they get this road finished."

"Say, Blair. Is your mom going to make it?" Joel asked.

"We hope so. She's been staying with some friends at a reservation in Arizona, helping them run the café and restaurant. One of them was hospitalized so she stayed on to help out, which is why she hasn't seen Jamie yet. She's dying to meet him."

"I'll bet. What about your dad, Jim?"

Blair shot a glance over at Jim.

"Uh oh, sore point?" Joel ventured when Jim stayed silent. "I thought you and your dad were reconciling?"

"We are, Joel," Jim signed. "But it's slow going."

"Mostly since Jim told him about us," Blair interjected.

"That's his problem, Chief," Jim said, lips tight.

"It's tough for the older generation," Joel suggested. "And it's tough for a parent to accept those kinds of differences in their kids. He's probably worried about you."

Blair and Jim exchanged a glance again and Jim shrugged.

"Probably," he agreed.

"Well, look at it this way," Joel said as the truck skimmed to a stop outside his house. "How would you feel if Jamie came home in twenty years and told you he was gay?"

"Ooh, good question, Joel," Blair grinned at Jim. They had already discussed this once, and he was curious to hear how Jim phrased his answer to Joel.

"Depending on the state of the world, whether peoples opinions had changed etc, I would probably be worried for him," Jim said thoughtfully. "But mostly I just want him to be happy."

"Good answer," Blair praised. "Yeah, Joel. Whoever or whatever Jamie chooses to be is fine with us."

"Lucky boy," Joel said as opened his door.

"Unless he decides to be a Fed," Jim said and Joel turned to look at him. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to disown him."

"Fair enough," Joel said solemnly and then he cracked up and laughed all the way down his front path.

000

Blair tidied the house and laid the plates out on the table for an early dinner, keeping an eye on the active baby who was exploring his territory. Jamie loved to test his boundaries with his parents, but he knew them pretty well by now. When he got to the wooden gate at the bottom of the stairs he pulled himself up and gazed longingly up to the second level, and then looked over his shoulder to Blair.

"You know that's off limits," Blair called over to him. Jamie gave the stairs a disgruntled look and dropped to his knees again, to resume his exploration. This time he was at the patio doors with his nose pressed up against the glass before Blair called over to him again.

"It's raining. We'll go outside when it's fine." Jamie patted the smear his breath made on the glass and moved on, this time to the lower shelf of the bookcase. Blair and Jim had moved anything breakable or potentially dangerous in the loft up a few levels, but the bottom shelves were still stacked with books. Jamie reached slowly for one, eyes on his father as he did.

"No," Blair said firmly.

Jamie froze, his hand still in the air. He looked at Blair in consideration and then moved his hand an inch forward.

"No, Jamie," Blair said firmly again. Jamie dropped his hand and shuffled backwards on his diaper clad bottom, staring at Blair reproachfully. "You have lots of toys to play with," Blair said, crossing the room and swinging the baby up into his arms. "Now, what have we here?" He carried him to the rug in front of the couch and sat down with him. "It's Ten-cent Bear, all alone. Poor Bear."

Jamie took the bear and tucked him securely under one arm. Then he reached for his little wooden truck and pushed it along. "Brrm," he said.

Blair took up the invitation to play and he took the other brightly coloured truck and zoomed it along the lines in the carpet pattern.

"Truck," Blair said, running it up over Jamie's knee and over his round belly. "Truck."

"Tuck," Jamie repeated earnestly. "Brmm brm."

"Clever boy!" Blair praised. The phone rang. "Hold that thought." Blair jumped up and picked up the phone.

"Blair?"

"Mom!" he said in delight. "You finally got my messages."

"Sorry about that, sweetie," Naomi said. "It's been a madhouse here. How are you? How's my new grandson?"

"Waiting to meet Granny Naomi. When are you coming to visit?"

"That's why I'm calling, sweetie. Lindy is home and well, and Bill doesn't need me here any more. I'm coming to Cascade to see you all!"

"Great, mom!" Blair told her about the party and rang off with her assurances that she would be sure to make it before Saturday, so she could be there. Shaking his head in amused disbelief Blair hung up the phone. He doubted she would make it, but you never knew with his mom. Sometimes she surprised him.

The baby was still sitting by his toys where Blair had left him, but he wasn't playing with his truck any more. He was sitting with his arms by his side, eyes glazed, gently rocking back and forward. A shaft of ice lodged in Blair's chest as he watched that silent swaying for long frozen moments. He quietly crossed the room and knelt down by Jamie's side. The expression on the baby's face suggested a zone-out, which was worrying enough, but the slow measured rocking was almost eerie. Before he could think further Blair was calling his son's name.

"Jamie?" Blair said urgently. "Jamie?"

The baby blinked and opened his eyes dazedly. Blair bit back a curse at the confused look on the child's face.

"Bath time, Jamie," he said brightly, trying the words he knew would get him a response.

The baby's forehead furrowed and then he was smiling happily. "Baff time," he repeated, lifting his plump arms to Blair. "Up up up."

Blair picked him up and clutched him to his chest for a few moments, icy terror still gripping him. Briskly he prepared the bath, lecturing himself all the while. He was reading too much into what he had seen. Plenty of babies rocked rhythmically, it was in the early childhood book the doctor had recommended. They would often kneel on all fours and rock back and forth for ages, enjoying the stretching of their muscles and the measured feel of the movement.

"Relax," he lectured himself when the baby was settled on the kitchen table in the plastic tub they had bought him. He liked the big bath a lot more, but it was much easier on his parents backs to bathe him this way. The door opened and Jim walked in.

"Hey, guys," he called, stripping off his coat and holster.

"Hey," Blair wrapped an arm around Jim's waist as the big man leaned over to kiss him. He kept a hold of his lover as Jim leaned over and planted one on Jamie's damp head.

"Bit early for bath time, isn't it? Did he make a mess? Did you make a mess, piglet?" Jim switched his attention to Jamie, who crashed his hands down on the surface of the water, splashing Jim's shirt. "Good timing," Jim said with a grin, lifting the damp fabric away from his skin. "We are going to have to get that bench fitted in the bathroom," he continued to Blair, pulling a mineral water from the fridge and twisting off the top. "This kid makes too many puddles."

"Yeah." Blair finished up the quick bath and lifted Jamie out, ignoring his protests. Jim followed them into the nursery and watched as Blair powdered and dried him.

"Is something wrong, Chief?" Jim said warily.

Blair buttoned the teddy bear rompers and sighed. He sat back on his old bed which still dominated the small room, holding Jamie on his lap. "I scared myself to death a while ago, seeing things that aren't there."

"Like?" Jim sat on the edge of the bed and held his arms out. Jamie scrambled off Blair's knee and crawled across the bed.

"Dad-dad," he said, beaming.

"Hey," Jim smiled, pressing a kiss to a perfect little nose.

"Like, fretful mother stuff," Blair said wryly. "Nothing to worry about. Hey, mom called just before."

"Yeah?"  Blair changed the subject, filling Jim in on his mom's phone call. He could tell the big man was curious, but he was grateful that Jim let the subject drop.

***

Next morning Blair chatted to Jamie's Child Care teacher, Mary-Anne. She assured him that she had never observed Jamie performing any repetitive rocking movements, but that she would keep her eyes open.

The next afternoon as they followed their same routine Blair watched the baby closely. The evening passed and just when Blair was starting to relax he again observed the baby's odd behavior. Sitting on the floor by the patio doors Jamie appeared lost in his own world, rocking back and forth, eyes closed, face absorbed. Tears prickled Blair's eyes as he watched, dread filling his heart. There was something so odd in the rhythmic sway, something almost unnatural in the absorbed look on the tiny face. Blair was very much afraid he knew what it was, or what it could become.

By the time Jim came home Jamie was snoozing on his rug and Blair was sitting at his computer, surfing the net.

"Hey," Jim said, hanging his coat up. "I missed you at the station this afternoon. I thought you were going to try to come in?"

"I picked Jamie up early," Blair said wearily, pushing a strand of hair back from his face. "I wanted to observe him this afternoon."

Jim leaned against the cabinet, frowning. "Again with the observations? I thought we discussed this?"

"We did discuss it, Jim," Blair said patiently. "I agreed with you that we shouldn't be running tests on Jamie when he couldn't possibly understand what is happening, but I never agreed not to make private observations. And I have observed... odd... behavioral patterns forming here, stuff I need to know more about."

"Odd?" Jim glanced over at the sleeping baby. "What are you talking about?"

Blair sighed and looked down at his screen. "Jim, do you know much about autism?" Even saying the word made Blair afraid.

Jim studied Blair's face carefully. "Not much more than the average man on the street," he said slowly. "But I know enough to know Jamie isn't autistic, if that's what you're suggesting."

"I'm not suggesting it, Jim, not at all. I am simply trying to tell you what I have observed. One of the symptoms of autism can be a rhythmic rocking back and forth. Yesterday, and then today I observed Jamie doing just that."

"So?" Jim said blankly. "So he rocks? Big deal."

"No, Jim, I am not making a big deal out of nothing. I am a trained observer, and I am telling you this is not... normal. If you could see the expression on his face when he does it... Or rather, the lack of expression. It's scary."

"Blair, you are the scary one right now. You find one symptom of a rare disorder and you blow it all up out of proportion."

"I wish you'd give me some credit here," Blair said angrily. "And stop treating me like a hysterical fool! I know what I have observed!"

"All right," Jim said soothingly. "I'm sorry. But you're scaring me here. Jamie is a perfectly normal kid."

"Jamie is a potential sentinel, Jim," Blair said quietly. "We've already had ample proof that he isn't an average kid, all right?"

"All right," Jim accepted, sitting down opposite Blair. "All right, we have accepted that. But autistic, Blair? How does that fit in?"

"I'm not saying it does, Jim. But the subject of autism first crossed my desk a few years ago," Blair said, slipping into lecture mode where he felt more comfortable. "New studies suggested that rather than a lack of sensory stimulation being a root cause, it might be too much sensory stimulation, more than the human brain can process. As always I was on the alert for any and all information pertaining to enhanced senses and this stuck in my mind."

"But Jamie does process it, you said that. He is adjusting naturally, that's why you wanted to study him."

"That's one of the reasons why," Blair corrected. "And yes, so far he seems to have been doing just fine. But as he grows older, who knows how his abilities might change? Maybe he can't keep up? Maybe the change from his quiet village life to the overload of sensory stimulation in the city is taking its toll?"

Jim again looked across the room at the sleeping baby. "What else?" he demanded. "What other symptoms is he showing?"

"None that I can see," Blair admitted. "Which gives me a great deal of hope. There are twelve criteria for diagnosing an autistic disorder, a subject has to exhibit signs of at least six of these. This rocking, the repetitive body movement, comes under the heading of overall pattern of behavior."

"One out of twelve?" Jim said incredulously. "You are scaring the crap out of me over one out of twelve?"

"Jim, hear me out here, okay? As I said I am not suggesting that Jamie is autistic. But the truth is that a great many of the other symptoms are social things, stuff we couldn't recognize until he's much older. And there are degrees of autism too, Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, PDDNOS for short, may be diagnosed where a child shows some symptoms of autism, but not all."

"Can I see that?" Jim said patiently, indicating the computer Blair was reading from. The younger man spun it around and Jim scrolled down the page. "'Individuals with autism may show deficits in the use of eye contact, facial expression, gestures, or other nonverbal behaviors when interacting with other people'," he read aloud. "Well, that's crap for a start, Jamie has a million different faces and he uses them all. 'A typically developing young child who sees an airplane fly overhead might point it out to his or her parents with delight, whereas the young child with autism is unlikely to try to draw attention to something of interest.' Again, this doesn't fit Jamie."

"Jim, I already said he doesn't match the other criteria," Blair interrupted patiently. "I never said he has autism, or even PDDNOS. What I am saying is that he is exhibiting a behavior that worries me, and that this disorder may be connected to his enhanced senses."

"Or it may be something completely different," Jim suggested.

"It may very well be," Blair agreed. "God knows, I hope it is. But if it isn't, if there is more to come, isn't it better that we know about it, that we are prepared for the worst? And we can look for possible treatments."

Jim sighed and studied the long winded text on the screen in front of him. "Blair, I have very little memory of using my senses as a kid, but we know I had them. It wasn't being a sentinel that made me the man I became, it was denying those abilities. I know we can't do what my father did, I know we can only help Jamie live with what he has. But for the first time since I found out I understand why my father did what he did. If I could protect Jamie from all this..." He flicked the computer screen.

"Knowledge is protection, Jim," Blair reached out and laid a comforting hand over his lovers.

"You're so subtle," Jim said dryly. "You want to study Jamie."

"I need to, Jim. And not for publication, not for anything else but knowing what he is and what he can do. Who knows, one day he might want to read all about his abilities as a baby."

"Maybe," Jim allowed. "I want to see this repetitive behavior you are talking about. Not that I don't trust your observations, but it may be something he is hearing or smelling that is making him zone out."

"I hope so," Blair said. "At least the zone-out is familiar territory."

"I need food," Jim announced. "All this parental stress is making me hungry. Pizza?"

"Pizza," Jamie said loudly, rolling over onto his tummy on his rug across the room and blinking sleepily.

"There's no doubting those sentinel abilities," Blair laughed, feeling a little of his tension recede. He couldn't begin to imagine handling this parenting business without Jim at his side. After all, a burden shared is a burden halved, and Jim's common sense approach had put his fears into some perspective.

"Who's a sharp eared boy then?" Jim crossed the room and picked up his son.

"Pizza," Jamie repeated.

***

They spent Saturday afternoon putting the finishing touches to the party preparations. Blair was fitting the last platter into the refrigerator when Jim touched his shoulder.

"Blair," he said softly.

Turning, Blair followed his gaze to Jamie, sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, eyes closed.

"That's it," Blair confirmed, shaken all over again by the odd movements.

"You were right," Jim said, frowning a little as he studied the swaying baby. "That is pretty weird." He quietly crossed the room and sat behind Jamie on the floor, spreading his long legs out on either side of him. "Let's just see what it is you are listening to, buddy." Jim closed his eyes and frowned in concentration. Holding his breath Blair crept closer and perched on the edge of the sofa, not wanting anything to disturb Jim's concentration. The cop's face cleared a little as his thoughts focused and Blair recognized when he had found his 'center'. And then the blank look faded to one of wonder. "Wow," Jim said softly under his breath. He opened his eyes, eyes as dazed as Jamie's had been days before.

"What is it?" Blair burst out, unable to contain the question any longer. "What are you hearing?"

"It's not what I'm hearing, it's what I'm feeling," Jim began slowly, still looking half zoned. He gazed down at the top of Jamie's downy head in wonder. "This kid is really something."

"Yeah, okay, but what are you feeling?" Blair said impatiently.

"I think... I think it's that studio down the street, the ones where the bands practice. That's the start of it anyway."

"But that place is soundproof. You said you had to be standing right outside to hear anything."

"Yeah, but like I said, we're not hearing this. It's the vibration from the music we are feeling, the driving rhythm of the beat. It's like that beat is tapping into something deeper, something I can't..." Jim laid his hands flat on the floor by his sides. "It's coming through the floor, and the walls. It's in the air itself. This pulsing like the beating of a heart. It's kinda heady when you find it and focus on it."

Blair sat down on the floor with his palms out. "I don't feel anything," he reported after a few moments. "Are you telling me you've never felt this before?" Suddenly Blair longed for his notebook.

"Not really. Just as a kind of background that I was barely aware of. But Jamie here seems to have tapped right into it." Again Jim looked down in awe at the quiet child.

"And that's it?" Blair lifted his hands off the wooden floor. "I've been scaring myself to death over this?" He flopped backwards and lay full length on the still floor.

"We'll have to get you a subscription to Fretful Mothers magazine," Jim said fondly.

Blair gazed thoughtfully at the baby who suddenly opened dazed eyes to blink at him.

Jim narrowed his eyes for a moment and then relaxed. "It's stopped," he announced.

"'topped," Jamie repeated, turning between Jim's legs on his padded bottom. "Dad-dad. Up!" He raised his arms imperiously.

Obediently Jim lifted him up against his chest, supporting him with both arms crossed beneath him. "You are really something, Jamie my man," Jim said in admiration.

"Pooh," Jamie said thoughtfully and Jim wrinkled his nose. "Whew, you're not wrong." He climbed to his feet and looked down at Blair still laying full length on the floor, lost in thought. "You okay, Chief?"

"Just thinking." Blair followed Jim into the nursery and stood propped up in the doorway while the big man cleaned the baby up and changed him. "How many other things is he feeling and hearing and smelling every day that I don't know about?" Blair said in frustration. "How can I guide him this way?"

"You're doing fine so far."

"Am I? Panicking about every little thing? Just fine!"

"You didn't panic, Chief," Jim said patiently. "You saw a potential problem and you researched it and you discussed it with me. You did everything right."

"But I was wrong about the cause, thank god."

"Were you?" Jim lifted Jamie up and turned to face his lover. "What you said about autism and that other disorder, about them maybe being caused by enhanced senses. That got me thinking. We know Jamie has enhanced senses, and because of my sentinel abilities I can at least try to tune into what he is hearing or feeling. But other people can't do that."

"So you're saying you think some people diagnosed with autism may be like Jamie?" Blair said, following his train of thought. "But without anyone who could possibly recognize that, there is no-one to help them."

"That article said diagnosis is difficult and subjective, maybe this is why. We know about sentinels, what else don't we know about? What other planes might these children and adults be capable of tapping into, with the right guidance?"

"Yeah, look at savants for example," Blair said thoughtfully. "Doing artistic or mathematic marvels, and yet unable to function in society, or even communicate in some instances."

Jim caressed Jamie's head where it lay on his shoulder. "We can't let that happen to Jamie, Blair. We owe it to him to learn everything we can to help him."

"That may mean studying him, Jim," Blair said seriously. "Can you trust me enough to do that?"

Jim looked appalled. "I trust you, Blair, I told you that."

"Then can you trust me to do this thing the right way, not to intrude on Jamie's growing up."

"I do trust you," Jim repeated again. "It's just the whole idea of tests and stuff gets to me. You know that."

"Yeah," Blair sat down on the end of the bed. "How about this, no tests. Observations and comparisons, but no tests, at least not til he's old enough to understand what's going on."

"And then we could make them games to him," Jim suggested. "We could all join in."

"I will need you for that, definitely." Blair looked at his watch. "They're going to be here in an hour, and Jamie looks like he could do with a nap."

"I could do with one myself," Jim sighed, laying the baby in his cot.

"You up for this party?" Blair said anxiously.

"Too late to worry about that now," Jim said, then smiled as he saw the worry on Blair's face. "I am looking forward to it actually, getting together with everyone, showing the piglet off."

"Yeah," Blair relaxed a little. "We can't dwell on this. At least we have an explanation for that rocking thing."

Jim stood by the cot, gazing down at the dozing baby. "I have a lot to teach Jamie, Blair. But I think he has a lot to teach me too."

"Sounds like parenthood to me," Blair smiled and wrapped an arm around Jim's waist. Together they watched their son doze.

000

Promptly at six the Taggert family arrived bearing gifts. Angela deposited a foil covered baking dish on the counter and turned to hug Jim. Joel and Blair were shaking hands at the door, the twins standing politely and quietly behind their dad, peering around him into he loft.

"Come in, come in," Blair invited, stepping back with a smile. The girls darted inside.

"Where's Jamie?" Kerri asked eagerly.

"He's just napping right now," Blair explained and the girls looked crestfallen. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be waking up when he hears that you guys are here," Blair assured them.

"Jamie's welcome present," Joel announced, holding up a large gift wrapped cylindrical shaped object.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Jim chided fondly, accepting it. "But thanks."

"We bought a present too, Uncle Jim," Dana chimed in excitedly, holding out a crumpled square of paper.

"Thank you, girls." Jim accepted the paper solemnly, crouching down beside the six year olds to unfold it. Blair came and stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. The paper was filled with a colored drawing that was instantly recognisable as Jim, Blair and Jamie standing in front of a blue truck. Above it was written in a neat but childish hand; 'Welcome Dear Jamie!'. Each letter was a different bright color.

"It's beautiful," Jim said sincerely, leaning forward and engulfing the suddenly shy girls in a hug.

"What neat writing," Blair marveled, taking the drawing from Jim. "This must be me," he teased, pointing at the figure with round muscled arms.

"No, no, Uncle Blair," the girls chorused. "This is you." They pointed to a smaller figure with curly black scribbled hair.

"Oh, don't you think I have big muscles too?" Blair posed as a muscle-man and the girls giggled.

"Silly, Blair," Kerri chided fondly. Jim cocked his head.

"Baby's awake," he announced and the girls cheered.

"Jim has developed parent hearing," Angela grinned, popping her tray of goodies in the oven to warm up.

There was a knock on the door and Blair left drink-mixing in Joel's capable hands as he greeted the new arrivals, a whole slew of Blair's friends from the university. Then some of the other cops from the station showed up with their spouses and a few kids. Simon stepped out of the elevator with Daryl as Blair was about to close the door after the last arrivals and the younger man greeted them happily.

"Glad you could make it, guys."

"Wouldn't miss it," Simon said gruffly.

"I have to see this kid," Daryl said curiously. "I am doing early childhood studies at school and none of dad's friends have babies, can you believe that?"

"Outrageous," Blair agreed, taking their coats and hanging them on the laden hooks.

Jim emerged from the nursery carrying Jamie, flanked by his two Taggert acolytes. The baby was wide awake and sweet smelling, dressed in denim overalls with a Thomas the Tank Engine logo on the bib. His feet were encased in matching Thomas socks.

"He's so small!" Daryl exclaimed, studying him like a bug under a microscope.

"He seems to have grown every time I see him," Joel exclaimed. Blair's friends from the university, Mark and Nicole gathered around too.

"Nice outfit," Nicole said, touching the bright logo and grinning when Jamie caught her fingers. "He's lovely," she smiled as the baby grinned toothily at her.

"I wanted the plain dungarees," Blair said dryly as Jim carried the baby into the living area and sat him on his rug. Most of his devoted fans trailed behind them. "The prices on the designer labels are outrageous."

"Wait 'til he's older," Simon joked, accepting a soda from Joel and sitting on a bar stool. "If it ain't Nike, it ain't cool," he drawled. Daryl groaned long sufferingly, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Blair." Simon pulled an envelope from his pocket. "This is our present to Jamie." He eyed the small stack of brightly coloured parcels. "But maybe you guys should open it, I don't think Jamie will get quite the same kick as he will from those gifts."

Curiously Blair opened the envelope and withdrew the card. "Water-Baby Swimming Lessons?" he read.

"I did some research, this guy is supposed to be the best teaching infants," Simon supplied.

"And the pools are heated, it's a great place," Daryl added.

Blair was incredibly touched at the thoughtful gift. He had tried not to rave too much about Jamie at work, but obviously he had said enough about the baby's love of water to inspire this gift.

"Thank you, guys," he said emotionally. "Jamie is just going to love this."

"Look out, hug coming," Daryl warned, nipping smartly away. Simon wasn't as quick and Blair engulfed him in a giant hug.

"You're welcome," Simon said, patting awkwardly at Blair's shoulder. The younger man drew back and smiled into the captain's embarrassed eyes and Simon seemed to relax a fraction. "You really are welcome," he repeated sincerely.

"Can we open the rest of the presents?" Dana called out from her position firmly next to Jamie on the rug. Jim looked around.

"Everyone's here except for Stephen and Naomi, and Steve said he might be late."

"And if we wait for mom we could get old and die," Blair joked, disappointed but not surprised that his mom hadn't made it. "Let's get a rippin'!"

Gifts were handed to Jamie one by one, who managed to rip the coloured paper off with a little help from the twins. The first present was revealed, a brightly hued wooden train set with curved track that fit together like a jigsaw. It was a combined gift from Blair's university friends, and the anthropologist recognized the handiwork of a local toy maker who had also created the wooden trucks Jamie adored.

"Wow," Jim lifted the red engine reverently. "These are beautiful, hey, Jamie?"

Jamie however was absorbed in the paper, crumpling it up and waving it in the air with both hands.

"He'll love it when he gets around to it," Nicole joked.

"He will," Blair agreed.

Other presents followed and a happy Jamie was soon engulfed in a sea of wrapping paper. Joel and Angela's present was a rug that had roads and tracks all over it. Immediately Jim laid it out and they ran some trucks over it. Some of the gifts were practical, some playful, and Jim and Blair thanked their friends sincerely for all the thought that had been put into them.

"Now the food." Joel rubbed his hands together eagerly to the laughter of their friends.

Dinner was informal, a variety of delicacies Blair had spent the day preparing with Jim's help. People sat on the couches or cross legged on the floor, sipping wine and commenting on the odd but tasty fare. Jim fed Jamie the occasional tidbit, but the baby was most eager for his usual brand of baby food and Blair heated him up a jar and let the twins take turns spooning it into his eager mouth.

After the meal Blair put some music on and the crowd began some serious discussions. For a change, and probably due to the closer quarters in the loft, the crowd didn't split into university talk and cop talk. Some interesting discussions developed and Blair was just getting into one when there was a knock on the door.

"That might be mom," he said hopefully to Jim. The cop straightened away from where he had been leaning on Blair's legs and stood up with a groan.

"It's Steven," he said quietly, with an apologetic caress to Blair's curls. Jim opened the door and greeted his brother with a handshake.

"Sorry, I'm late," Steven called, handing over a oddly shaped parcel and stripping off his coat and muffler.

"I saved you some food," Blair stood up and greeted Steven with a hand shake. They hadn't quite reached the hugging stage, but Blair had always been on good terms with Jim's family, and Steven had seemed completely unfazed when Jim told him about the new status of his relationship with his room mate the year before.

"I see my nephew is still awake," Steven sat down cross legged on the floor, handing his parcel to the baby. "But not for long," he observed as a big yawn split the infants face. An old hand now at this present stuff Jamie ripped at the paper and Steven helped him strip the rest away, revealing a tightly stretched drum, woven with strips of leather. A leather wrapped drumstick accompanied it.

"It's beautiful," Blair marveled. "Is it authentic?"

"Yep, picked it up on my travels." Steven banged the drum once or twice and handed Jamie the drumstick. Tentatively the baby tried for himself, a delighted smile splitting his face as the rich sound ensued.

"Now why didn't I think of a drum?" Angela grinned.

"Because you would have killed anyone who bought one for the twins," Joel joked with a wink at Steven.

Jamie was enthusiastically banging away and Jim put a hand to his brow theatrically. "I can feel the headache already," he intoned. He raised one brow at his brother. "Thanks a lot, bro."

"Anytime, bro," Steven returned with a smile.

"I plan to return the favor when it's your turn," Jim warned.

Steven just ruffled Jamie's hair good naturedly and encouraged him to beat the drum harder.

***

An hour later Jamie was fast asleep on his new rug, the twins either side of him lost to the world. The music was quiet and Joel, Jim, Steven, and Simon were on the floor, attempting to fit the train set together. Joel was insisting on a figure eight, but Simon said they would get the maximum use out of the track if they made a big loop. Daryl sat on the edge of the couch, attempting to maintain his teenage cool but unable to resist giving advice.

Blair looked up from his conversation with Mark and caught Jim's eye across the room. With a silent signal they both quietly excused themselves and headed out onto the empty patio. Soft music filtered out and the quiet murmur of friends conversing was a soothing backdrop to the low sound of street noise from below.

"I'm sorry your mom didn't make it, Chief," Jim said, wrapping arms around his lover.

Blair leaned against Jim with a sigh. "I'm sure she has a good reason," he murmured into Jim's chest.

"Yeah." Jim's arms tightened around him.

"This has been great, hasn't it?" Blair tilted his head back and smiled into Jim's eyes.

"Our best party ever," Jim announced. Suddenly his gaze sharpened over Blair's shoulder and his arms tightened for a moment before he relaxed, a smile splitting his face. "About to get better."

Blair followed his gaze to the car pulling into a spare space on the street below. Naomi stepped out and waved up to the guys on the balcony, her red hair glowing in the light of the street lamps.

"Hi, sweetie," she called up gaily.

Blair felt his heart lighten at the love in the enthusiastic greeting.

"Mom!" he called down. "I knew she'd make it," he said joyfully. "Wait 'til she sees Jamie, she is going to love him!"

Jim caught Blair before he could dart away and hugged him for a moment.  "I love you, Blair," he said sincerely.

Blair cupped Jim's face in his hands, seeing everything he needed to see in his lovers eyes, concern, happiness, love.

"It's okay, Jim," he said softly, letting Jim know he understood, that it was all right. "I love you too." He went to greet his mom.

The End.

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