Birthday Blues

By Sunglow and Moonglow


Rating: G

Notes: 60% Sunglow, 40% Moonglow; our first true collaboration.


Year 1

"You got me a tie?"

"Yeah. Well, I was going to get you a white noise generator to help you sleep but I had to get the Corvair a new alternator. Do you like it?"

Jim looked at the tie in his hand and had to dial down his sight before he puked on it; but hey, maybe that would improve it. He looked up at his roommate and saw the eager, pleased look on his face and swallowed his disappointment at the impersonal gift. Okay, it was early days, Blair didn't know him very well and it was the thought that counts.

"I love it."

"It'll really brighten up court days." Blair gave a happy bounce on his seat.

Jim resigned himself to the fact that from now on his court appearances would be 'enhanced' by comments about his sartorial taste.


Year 2

"It's not much, but I was a bit short this year."

"You're always a bit short, Chief."

"Oh ha ha, very funny."

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out." The usual Blair bounce was back.

Jim unwrapped the box and took the lid off, peering inside.

"A sweater."

"A cashmere sweater. I've had the wool for a while and Cheryl, one of the TA's knitted it up for me. Do you like it?"

Jim lifted the cable knit sweater up and held it against his chest. He wasn't too sure about the natural colour but it felt wonderful to the touch. It felt even better when Blair ran his hand down the front.


"I love it, Chief." Again he pushed his disappointment aside and smiled at Blair, maybe next year.


Year 3

"Socks. You got me socks."

"White socks, Jim." Blair bounced.

"Can never have enough white socks, eh Chief?"

"That's what I thought when I saw them. I saw some antique fishing flies but then the Volvo's exhaust went and…"

"I know, Chief, I could hear it from two miles away."

"Wow, your hearing's got really good, maybe we should run a few tests."

"Not on my birthday, Chief."

"No, no of course not, man. How about tomorrow?"

"Sure, why not?" It wasn't as if he had anything better planned.

He couldn't understand it; Blair could read the signs of impending problems with his senses, why couldn't he read the signals he'd been sending out for the past three years? He submitted to tests, albeit with a lot of bitching and moaning; he'd relaxed his rule about eating on the sofa; he'd even stopped forcing Blair to clean his hairs from the bath. What more could he do?

"You okay, Jim? You don't normally agree so easily."

"I'm fine, Chief. So, where am I taking you this year?"

"Well, as it's your birthday, why don't we go to Wonderburger?"


Year 4

Jim woke to a feeling of anticipation. The sun was shining for once, the coffee was perking downstairs and from the sound of his humming, so was Sandburg. And it was his birthday. Not necessarily a cause for celebration, seeing as it was the big four-o, but this year he had high hopes of finally getting the present he'd been after for the last four years. He'd sent out so many clues in the last few weeks, Blair was the only one in Major Crimes that hadn't caught on.

He wondered how such an intuitive individual like Blair could be so insensitive. Hell, Megan was dropping hints about how bonzer they looked together, whatever that meant, and H was taking bets with Rafe and Joel. Simon was a bit subtler; giving Jim the majority of twilight stakeouts and encouraging Blair to go with him, but so far nothing had worked. It looked more and more like Jim was going to have to do the one thing that he dreaded; talk to Sandburg.

Jim peered out to see down into the kitchen, nose twitching at the smell of eggs and bacon cooking. Not bothering with a robe, he slid out of bed and trotted down the stairs, thinking back to a time when Blair had first moved in with him. He recalled he'd made him eggs then as well, and wondered if the courtship ritual comment would work this time. Probably not.

"Happy birthday, big guy." Blair looked up from the pan he was stirring and smiled, "How does it feel to be forty?"

"Same as it did when I was thirty nine," Jim wondered where Blair had hidden his present, but all he could see was the usual card beside his plate. He sat down and traced a finger over the thick vellum, leaning back a little as a plate was put in front of him.

"Eggs, Chief?"

"I thought maybe it wouldn't hurt to let you have what you wanted today." Blair sat down next to him, and jumped up to pat Jim on the back when he choked on the mouthful of juice he'd just taken. "You okay, big guy?"

"I'm fine." Jim wheezed.

"Was it something I said?"

Jim ignored that and dug into his breakfast.

"You haven't opened your card." Blair picked up his fork and started on his own eggs.

Jim put down his fork and opened the envelope.

"Hand made?" He asked, fingering the flap.

"You can tell that? Cool."

As Jim slid the card out and opened it a smaller envelope fell out. He opened that and withdrew two tickets.

"Season tickets to the Jags? Chief, these cost a fortune."

"Read the card. All of Major Crime chipped in."

"That's great." Jim summoned up a pleased smile, disappointed not to have received a more personal gift from Blair.

"Yeah, we thought so too." Blair beamed, "So who will you be taking to the first game?"

"Dunno," Jim shrugged. "Depends on who chipped in the most I suppose." a very small part of him felt petty for saying it, but once again he hadn't got what he wanted for his birthday. He finished his eggs, slightly subdued, and pushed his chair away from the table, heading silently to the bathroom where he didn't have to put on a brave face, so he didn't see the speculative look on Blair's face.

So engrossed in his misery Jim didn't hear the bathroom door open. It was only when the shower curtain was pulled aside and Blair slipped in behind him that he turned.


"I'd be jealous if you were expecting anyone else."


"I asked Megan what she thought you'd like for your birthday."


"Well I thought you'd rather have the Jags tickets but she convinced me you'd rather have me."

Blair looked uncertain all of a sudden. "Was she right?"

Jim pulled him close, his hand cupping the ass he'd coveted for years, disappointment fading to quiet contentment.

"You and the Jags? Best birthday ever."


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