Summary: Jim has a day from hell and comes home to a loft smelling like Christmas and his lover singing a love song.
Warnings: Christmas story. Humor and Angst. Sappy. Established relationship.
Word Count: 1211
Jim was having a day from hell. There was no other way of looking at it. First, he was late for court, pissing the judge off and putting everyone in a foul mood. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the evidence got misplaced and they threw the entire case out of court. Jim had worked for two months on this case and everything had been perfect, until today. Jim just thought he had bad days before today. Now, he recognized this one as the day from hell.
Jim had to tell Simon what happened and Simon wasn’t happy at all. In fact, Simon was downright pissed off and his anger of course was taken out on the person closest to him and that would be Jim Ellison. So, Jim got his ass chewed for an hour, over something that had nothing to do with him at all. Finally, when Simon calmed down, he told Jim to take off for the day and see if he could come up with any ideas on how to get this asshole back into custody.
When Jim got to the parking garage, he saw the flat tire on his truck immediately and sighed out loud. Joel walked up behind him and said, “Looks like you’re day isn’t going any better even out of court, Jim.”
“I guess not, Joel. Now, I get to wrestle with my tire for the next twenty minutes. I’m going to love that,” Jim said.
Joel said goodbye and wished him a safe trip home without any altercations on the road. Jim just cringed at the thought of anything happening.
Forty minutes later, Jim got his tire from hell onto his truck and was on his way. He couldn’t wait to get home. Maybe Blair would have dinner made. Maybe things would be clean, quiet and calm. Jim could wish.
Jim wanted to call Blair and warn him that he was on his way and wasn’t in a good mood, but the phone from hell’s battery was dead. Nope, Jim wasn’t going to be calling anyone anytime soon.
As Jim drove onto the highway from hell, he got caught in a cluster fuck of cars and was sitting there waiting and waiting and waiting. Jim could feel his blood pressure rising as he sat in the line of cars. Finally, the traffic starting moving and he was on his way. As Jim drove, he remembered he had no beer at the house, and if he ever needed one, it was tonight. Jim got off on the next exit and headed to the grocery store from hell. It was packed and all Jim wanted was beer.
Jim walked back and was accosted by perfume smelling women right and left. No matter what aisle he went down, the scents were killing his senses. He could hardly breathe by the time he got to the liquor section. He picked up two six packs of Miller Lite and moved up to the front of the store to check out. Jim hoped it was going to be a fast process, but all of the checkers were busy and had at least three people in each line. One of the checkers got on her PA system and yelled, ‘Checkers needed up front,’ and almost blasted Jim’s eardrums out of his head. Between the sounds and the scents, he had a headache from, you guessed it, hell.
Once Jim was out in his truck, he took some deep breaths and hoped to get home in one piece. He had no sooner turned on the main street going back to the loft when a policeman turned his lights and siren on and pulled Jim over.
Jim just set his head on the steering wheel for a few moments to rest before he had his stroke. When the cop from hell walked up to the truck, Jim already had his license and registration out.
“Sir, did you know that you bulb is out on your right hand blinker?” the cop asked.
“No, but I will see to it that it’s fixed first thing tomorrow. Thank you for pointing that out to me,” Jim said as nicely as he could. (He didn’t really feel nice, in fact he felt like he wanted to get out and kick this cop’s ass.)
“I don’t have to put up with your smart mouth, buddy. Here is a ticket. You’ll be stopped again, if it’s not done tomorrow.” The cop handed the ticket to Jim and walked back to his car.
Jim sighed, rolled up his window and started driving home. Then he realized he needed the window down to signal any turns with his arm. It was freezing outside, but the cop from hell was following Jim, so Jim had to use his arm as his turning signal.
When Jim finally pulled up to the loft parking lot, he could have cried. Home never looked so good. He couldn’t wait to have Blair baby him. God, please let Blair baby me.
Jim got out of the car and locked up and walked with his beer into the lobby. The elevator from hell was out, so he walked up the stairs and couldn’t believe how long it took him to do that simple task. He set the beer on the floor while he looked for the key to the loft. That’s when he heard the voice from heaven. Blair was singing a Christmas tune and Jim was thrilled. Blair was lifting his spirits already. Then Jim sniffed the air and realized Blair had made lasagna and it also smelled like chocolate chip cookies. Things were looking up.
Jim was never so glad to be home in his life and just leaned against the door jam. Jim continued listening to Blair singing until suddenly Blair stopped and opened up the loft door.
“Hey Jim, you’re home. Simon said you had a bad day. Welcome home, lover.”
Jim pulled Blair into his arms and just hugged him. “I love you, Chief.”
“I know you do, but it’s nice to hear you say it, anyhow,” Blair said, smiling like crazy. “I missed you. I didn’t think you were ever going to get here.”
“That makes two of us, Chief.”
“Come on in and tell me about your day,” Blair said, picking up the beer and taking it into the kitchen.
“My day doesn’t really matter anymore, Blair. You have made me feel one hundred percent better, already. The loft smells great and you look great. What more could I ask for?”
“Sit down at the table, Jim and I’ll serve you dinner. You can tell me about your day then.”
And Jim knew he would do just that because after all, Blair was a great listener.
“Merry Christmas, early, Blair.”
“Same to you, Jim. Now eat.”
Jim was in heaven as he ate his favorite meal and watched Blair’s eyes and smile.