"Ellison!" a deep voice called as soon as Jim opened the door. Blair was sitting on the couch cross-legged in sweat pants and a CPD sweat shirt, laptop balanced on his knees and some old western on the television, so he hadn't bothered getting up.

"Carl?" Ellison asked in a shocked voice. "What the hell are you doing here?" The words sounded angry, but the tone was amused and happy.

"Just passing through, and I thought I'd see if you were still stuck in the same mud puddle," the man came in now, and Blair looked up. The man was Hispanic with a wide pox-marked face and a deep scar that ran the length of his left arm leaving a furrow of puckered skin.

"Oh, didn't know you had company," the man said as he caught sight of Blair on the couch.

"He doesn't count; he's just my partner," Jim said, and Blair flicked his middle finger toward the men. The guest laughed easily.

"Blair Sandburg," he offered as he moved the computer to the coffee table before standing and offering his hand.

"Carl Perti," the man offered his name.

"Nice to meet you." Blair went back to the sofa and closed the screen on his computer.

"Obviously you don't know Perti well," Jim said as he held out a beer toward Perti before bringing Blair one. "He is one of the shadiest, most underhanded, unreliable bastards I met in my covert ops days."

"Yeah, but I'm good at what I do," Perti said with a wink.

"And why do I have the feeling that I don't want to know what that is," Blair said with a smile as he brought the beer up to his mouth.

"Smart man," Perti said. Jim gestured toward a chair and Perti sat down and leaned forward with his elbows braced on his spread knees. "So, you and Jim work for the locals, huh? God, Jim, I remember a day when you used to make fun of the locals and now you've gone and joined the dark side."

"Perti, I think what we used to do was the dark side," Jim retorted dryly.

"So, are you busily saving society from the evil influences of crime and urban decay?" Perti asked with half a smirk.

"Since someone let you into town, obviously not well enough."

"You hurt me Ellie-boy."

"Ellie-boy?" Blair asked with amusement as he looked over at Jim who had a look of dismay on his face.

"You are evil," Jim growled at Perti.

"So, am I interrupting some important, top-secret meeting on some criminal mastermind who keeps tagging walls in South-town?"

"Oh no, I'm just looking over a paper for a friend. Nothing work related," Blair hurried to reassure the man. Then he glanced over at Jim trying to decide how Jim wanted to handle this. With the door to the office open, it was clearly not a bedroom and with the open floor plan in the loft, there was no way to hide the fact that the two men only had one bedroom.

"Blair lives here, if you can't already tell that from the mess," Jim said as he looked around the room.

"Oh Ellie-boy, you haven't changed a bit. You were the only man I ever knew who looked forward to inspections. So you're staying here?" Perti's voice took on a sudden cautiousness as he turned to Blair.

Blair froze, he wasn't sure how to answer that without either denying his relationship with Jim or outting him to someone that Jim might not want to be outted around.

"For the last four or five years," Jim said quietly, his voice suddenly tightly controlled. "Like I said, Blair's my partner." Jim took a long drink from his beer while keeping his eyes on Perti. Blair held his breath as he waited for the reaction.

"Well, Ellie-boy, I guess you've gone to the dark side in more ways than one."

"Careful, Perti. I've kicked your ass before, and I can do it again," Jim answered. Blair started searching for plausible reasons to run for the hills.

"Hey, whatever floats your boat," Perti held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I just thought you might be up for some pool and beers. If you've gone and gotten yourself a... partner, no skin off my nose."

Jim was silent for a long time, and Blair could practically touch discomfort in the room.

"So, you haven't taken up knitting or anything, have you?" Perti threw out in the silence. Blair snorted his laughter, not sure whether he was laughing at the image of Jim Ellison knitting or just because the situation was so damn uncomfortable.

"Not likely. I can still kick your ass in a game of pool," Jim glowered back at the man, crossing his arms with the beer bottle still hanging from one hand.

"Now that sounds like a challenge."

"It's a promise."

"Bring it on!" Perti said with a smile that reminded Blair of Russo.

Blair had just finished reading Rebecca's dissertation on the cultural norms of young girls in gangs when the door slammed open. Jim came in with a slightly glazed expression that suggested he had consumed about a half dozen beers to many.

"Oh man, why didn't you call? Tell me you didn't drive," Blair said as he pushed the computer to one side and hurried to close the door behind Jim.

"Don't nag, Sandburg," Jim said as he tossed his keys at the wicker basket they had bought for next to the front door. He managed to hit the basket hard enough to make it and all the mail in it slide off the small table and onto the floor.

"I am so not picking that up," Blair said as he went into the kitchen to get Jim a large glass of water.

"You know what, Sandburg?" Jim asked, and Blair found strong arms wrapped around his waist as Jim leaned his weight against Blair's back.

"What?"

"I'm gay," Jim whispered in Blair's ear. The scent of beer and whiskey made Blair wrinkle his nose.

"Okay," he answered slowly. "And does that work for you?" Blair braced his hands on the edge of the sink. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer. The saying " en vino veritas" floated to the top of his mind.

"I don't want to buy any Judy Garland movies." Jim put his chin on Blair's shoulder even though he had to slump down to manage it. It also meant that Jim's hands slipped farther south.

"Okay," Blair answered with even more caution.

"And I don't want to put in track lighting or buy leather pants." Jim slurred his words until Blair wasn't even sure that he had heard correctly.

"That's fine. I have to say you look good in leather, though," Blair said as he thought back to Miss Rose's wardrobe choices during that stakeout.

"Mmmm. Is it okay if the only part of gay that I feel like doing is the whole fucking and loving a man part?" Now Jim's words slurred so badly that Blair was afraid he might hit the floor. Blair squirmed around until he faced Jim and put his own hands around Jim's waist.

"Oh man, that's just fine with me. Let's just get you upstairs before you pass out because I'm not carrying your ass up all those stairs." Jim responded by slowly sliding to the ground, dragging Blair down with him.

"Or we could just sleep here," Blair said as he found himself sitting on the floor with Jim lying in his lap. Jim just reached up and patted Blair on the nose clumsily before Blair could intercept that drunken gesture. "Man, you are one pathetic drunk."

Two weeks later, Blair picked up the mail only to find an oversized white envelope with embossed flowers decorating the front. It was addressed to both of them, so he slit the envelop open in the elevator, the rest of the mail shoved under his arm. He pulled a wedding card out, a fancy one with roses in shades of pink and embossed baby's breath flowers decorating the front. Blair opened it.

"Congrats Ellie-boy. He sounds like quite the catch," a rough hand had scrawled on the opposite side from a hallmark comment in scrolling cursive. Blair smiled. Sometimes people surprised you.