"Blair, I'm sorry," Jim said, as they walked into the loft. He'd been apologizing for the last half hour, but it still looked like his partner wouldn't forgive him. He could hardly blame him. Blair was dripping wet, and smelled like a dumpster. A dumpster outside of a fish market, during a garbage strike. In August.
He was also limping, which meant Jim had to supply a supportive arm to help him into their apartment, and really, that wasn't fair to Jim's senses at all. There was only so much 'dialing down' a guy could do. And now, his partner was looking up at him accusatorily. Big blue eyes wide with hurt. "I was trying to give you a clue, man, and you just ignored me. "
"I wasn't ignoring you, Chief, I just didn't get what you were saying,. Come on, let's go take a shower." Jim dragged Blair towards the bathroom, slowing as he felt Blair's resistance.
" Jesus, Jim. You want to make out now? If you think I'm up for hanky panky, you're crazy. Sometimes you boggle me."
"No, Blair. For once I'm thinking with my cranium, not my dick." Actually, he was mostly thinking with his nose, which was highly offended at the moment. "You reek, Blair, and you're making me stink as well. The sooner we wash this all off, the sooner I'll be able to pretend to listen as you berate me some more for doing my job."
"That's balderdash. It's my job too, now. I'm not just an observer. I'm supposed to be your partner. If you had any scruples you wouldn't have shoved me on that stack of apple crates and told me to just stay there and listen. Like I could I be of any real help that way?" Blair began stripping off his sodden clothes, reluctantly letting Jim help with a recalcitrant knot in his boot. "Anyway, you'd smell too, if you had to jump in a vat full of fish guts. Man, that was gross."
"I didn't want you to risk your life, Blair. Not for a couple of thugs like that. Besides, back up was coming." Jim turned on the shower, adjusting the spray to the pressure and temperature he knew from experience Blair liked best.
Slightly mollified by the soft tone Jim was using, and the relaxing touch of Jim's hands rinsing off the grime, Blair sighed. "Jim, I understand you want me safe, but I just don't trust those new recruits to know how to take care of you and your special needs. " He took the other washcloth off the bar, and turned towards Jim, using it to stroke all over his body.." They probably think 221 Baker Street is where Krispy Kreme is headquartered."
"I'm sorry I was overprotective, Blair. It's just" - Jim shuddered at the memory of Blair so still in the fountain - "you don't have a monopoly on worry."
"I know that, Jim. But I wish you'd let up a little. I promise I'll be as careful as I can be" Blair leaned into his soapy partner, and kissed him. Jim responded enthusiastically. Then Blair continued." Just, next time? Try and remember I'm an adult, and can take care of myself. I'd hate to see this all change from an enjoyable duet to a solitaire."
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