"That looks good, Simon. Just a little to the left."
"Like this, Sandburg?" Simon moved the ornament he was placing on the department Christmas tree.
"Yeah...that's it!"
Then a shout rang out across the bullpen.
"Sandy! Help me with this garland, willya?"
Blair grinned and ran to hold up one end as Conner taped the other and tried to drape it evenly.
Blair looked around the room. As usual this time of year, it was bright and cheerful, and Blair was happy he'd had a hand in all of it. He ignored the voice inside of him that told him *why* he'd gotten so involved - so he wouldn't be left out. The ornaments *were* pretty, after all, and making the world prettier was always a good thing.
"Looks good, Chief. I don't how we got this place decorated without you." Jim was hanging lights around Simon's windows.
Blair grinned. "Wait'll we get started on the loft. I don't know why you wait until the last minute." That's it, Blair. Lie through your teeth.
"That's what my family does. What does..." *Crash!!!!*
"Joel!" He'd fallen off a step ladder. Jim got there moments before Blair did. Fortunately, Joel was just slightly bruised, and even more fortunately, the mistletoe was completely uninjured.
Jim finished hanging the greenery while Blair got Joel to a chair and gave him a cup of coffee.
"What happened?" Simon ran out of his office.
"I'm fine, Captain."
"Okay. *Enough* decorations. We look like a department store the way it is. Shift is over. It's time to go *home*."
"Yes, sir!" Henri's reply sounded heartfelt.
"It's done, Jim. It looks even better than last year."
Jim smiled and gathered Blair in his arms. "That's because everything looks better this year. We're together. Our first Christmas together, sweetheart!"
"Yeah."
Blair looked around the loft. No plastic garlands or gaudy decorations here. Jim went for pine boughs and dark red ribbons and candles. The tree, though, was more eclectic. Apparently each ornament other than the burnished gold balls meant something to his lover. It was extremely tasteful and not as much fun to put up as the tinsel and posters in the station. Which meant that he couldn't drown out the voice as much. Still, it was nice to be in Jim's arms. And all this did make Jim happy. That was the important thing.
Jim hugged him close and then let go. "I have something to show you, angel. Something that would make this perfect." He went to Blair's old room and took out an old cardboard box.
"What is it, Jim?"
"Just wait." Jim knelt next to the tree and opened the box. He spent a few minutes arranging things, and then stood up.
It was...a nativity scene. A creche. Blair looked at it. The oddest chill ran up his spine.
"That's..."
"That's my family's creche." Jim grinned. "My dad sent it to me. Said that I was always supposed to get it when I got married. I still don't believe he's accepted *us* the way he has."
"Surprised me, too, Jim. The way you described him to me...I thought he'd disown you when you came out to him. So, your family put that out every year? Where's the...the baby?"
"Baby Jesus? He's still in the box. He's not born until Christmas, so he doesn't go out yet. Hey, do you want to put him in the cradle? Stevie and I used to argue about that every year before going off to church."
"Good memories, Jim?" Blair could not move.
"Yeah. Doesn't it look like Christmas now? Never really did, before."
"Yeah."
"What about you? Don't you..."
Blair could feel his heart beating. "I gotta go, Jim. I gotta get out of here."
He grabbed his coat and backpack and dashed out of the apartment.
He could hear Jim shouting as he left, but he didn't turn back.
*****************************************
Jim paced the loft. Blair had been gone for over an hour, and no one knew where he was. He had tried calling everyone he knew among Blair's friends, and no one had seen him. The library was closed, the university was on break and Blair had already finished his surprisingly short shopping list.
Yes, Blair could take care of himself, but he'd run out of the apartment so suddenly that Jim was worried. He replayed everything he'd said over and over again, and he'd said nothing wrong.
He shook his head and sat down on the couch.
The phone rang.
"Jim? This is Rafe. I was just out getting some pizza when I saw Blair's car."
"Where is it?"
Rafe gave the address, and Jim was out of the house so fast that he barely had time to hang up.
It was a shopping center in a part of town that Jim had rarely visited. Most of the stores were closed at that time of night, despite the bright holiday lights, but there was one restaurant still open and a number of cars parked close to it.
When he walked in, it was as if he'd entered a different world. There were almost no decorations, but what there were blue and silver, and instead of carols, the sound system carried songs in a foreign language that sounded sort of Middle Eastern.
There were a number of people sitting there, eating. Most were just ordinary folks, but one or two men were wearing..what were they called? Yarmulkes! And a couple more were wearing distinctly Muslim garb.
And, there, in the corner, eating something in a pita and reading, was Blair.
Jim slid into the seat across from him. "Chief?"
Blair looked up. "Jim! How did...It doesn't matter."
"Someone saw your car. I'd been worried, so I called everyone. Blair, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." He put down his sandwich.
"Don't give me that, Blair. You ran out of there so fast you left skid marks. Now, why did you run, and why are you here?"
Blair took a deep breath and reached for Jim's hand.
"I'm here because it's a kosher restaurant."
"You don't eat kosher."
Blair shrugged. "No, I don't. But I can escape here."
"Escape what?"
"*It*. Christmas. It's everywhere but *here.*" Blair's hand tightened. "I guess maybe I could have gone to a Chinese place or something, but even they hang up garlands, and right now I couldn't face another piece of tinsel."
Jim was confused. "I thought you *liked* Christmas."
"I don't mind it, usually. I mean, I really get into the decorations. They're pretty and fun and bright. Anyway, if I'm involved in it in someway, it's easier, you know? Then I'm a part of things, and it's fun. Except that all of a sudden it got too much."
"'Don't mind.' 'Too much.' You sound like it's something to get through."
Blair shrugged. "Yeah, well. It's not my holiday, man, you know?" He glanced around the restaurant. There was a...a menorah, an electric one, in the window. Its lights were dark.
Jim nodded. "We could celebrate Chanukah, put up a menorah, if you want."
Blair closed his eyes. "Jim, Chanukah is *over.* It's been over for a while now. I may not celebrate it, but I know when it is."
Jim was at a loss. "So what's the problem? We decorated tonight, and you were very into it. Then you left...after I showed you the creche, too."
"The creche. It's very important to you, isn't it?"
Jim nodded. "It always sat under the tree. Even after Mom left, Dad would tell us the story of Christmas over and over again, using the figures. And, like I said, before we went to church, Stevie and I would argue about who gets to put baby Jesus in the manger."
"That's really beautiful, Jim. But...Last year, it was cool. Last year, we were still just, you know, friends. And we put up the decorations, but it was just for the looks of things, and that was nice."
"It's not nice this year? Now that we're more than friends?"
"Now you're talking about 'our first Christmas' like it's something I should get all...romantic or something about." There was this edge to Blair's voice that Jim had never heard before.
"Isn't it romantic? It's a romantic time of year."
Blair shrugged. "Just the way our 'first Chanukah' was to you...And then the creche. I know it's important to you, and you should have it out, but it makes it all *religious*. And I can't deal with that."
"Religious? It's not...it is. Why does that bother you?"
"Cause I'm *not*...it's...not...it's not my religion. All of a sudden, it's gone from a party thing to the celebration of the origins of your religion. It's like...I can't say this right, and I'm supposed to be good with words. I'm making a mess of this. Damn. I *don't* have warm Christmas memories, except for going to the movies with my mom, and out for Chinese. I *can't* share that with you."
"We *can* make our own memories."
"We do, all the time, Jim. We don't need to worry about one day out of the year."
"That stuff with your mom...the dinner and the movie...that sounds like a nice tradition."
"It was nice because I got to spend time with my mother, but we did something like that on other days when she wasn't working and I didn't have school. We just had less choice in what to do."
"I don't see the problem here. You don't do your holidays, so what's wrong with celebrating mine?"
Blair stared at him. "I don't believe you said that. You know better than that. If someone didn't celebrate Christmas, would it make sense for them to celebrate Chanukah? Jim, I love you, and that means loving every part of you, and everything you are. But now you're talking about baby Jesus and church, and those are things that I can't share. "
He sighed. "Look, I'm about as assimilated as anyone is going to get. I don't keep kosher, and probably never will. I'll never keep the Sabbath, and I don't feel the slightest need to do so. And while I do fast on Yom Kippur, I do it while going about my normal business. And I still respect the customs of other nations - I meditate and study Eastern philosophy, which is pretty well frowned upon. Hell, I love you and sleep with you, and that's not 'kosher', either, and I'm not giving that up. Ever. Even if you put crosses up all over the house."
"I wouldn't do that, Blair."
"I know. I don't want to forget my heritage, just like I don't want to forget the tattoos on my grandparents' arms. And much as I do like the secular aspects of Christmas - the parties and the presents and the decorations - the religious ones bother me."
"I'm not religious. Other than weddings and funerals, I haven't been inside a church in decades. But...but...everyone does Christmas. Isn't Chanukah...you know...the Jewish..." He was totally confused.
"Chanukah is a totally different holiday. It's the celebration of a revolt against...against the forces of assimilation. Which have won in my case. And it wasn't even a battle." Blair laughed bitterly. "When you showed me the creche...it's your memories, and they're beautiful and I don't have the right to say otherwise, but...for that moment, it didn't feel like my home. Like I didn't belong there."
Jim was shocked. "It *is* your home. If you want, I'll put it away." He didn't want to, but if it would make Blair happy, he would. "If you want, we'll get a menorah next year."
"That...that might be nice. I don't know. Mom never showed me how to light one. But I have time - a whole year - to do the research...Maybe. But don't put the creche away. It's your memories and it's a symbol of your father accepting *us*, and it's a beautiful thing by itself. I just need some time to process it, okay?"
"You'll be all right here?"
"Yeah. I'll be home soon. I promise."
"Blair...there is no real way to resolve this, is there?"
Blair shook his head. "I don't think so."
"So where does this leave us?"
He smiled then. "We're two guys who are totally in love and who share pretty much everything in their lives, but not everything. I think we can live with this."
"Okay. Blair...it's memories, it's not religious. It's your home, and it always will be. You've already brought so much more into my life...I feel like I should give something to you."
"You gave me a home and you gave me yourself. I love you, Jim."
"Love you, too."
Blair smiled as he picked up his book again.
Jim left the restaurant and reentered a world of green and red and tinsel and lights. For a moment, it was overwhelming, alien, even oppressing, until it was familiar again. Yeah, they could deal with this just fine.
Back to Sentinel page.
Back to Fanfiction page.
Back to Main page.