Warnings: This series covers the subject of child abuse - both physical and sexual. While a lot of it is 'off screen' and depicted as part of the past storyline, there are sections in this series which do describe it more graphically.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

The pitter-patter of little feet. Never in his wildest dreams had Detective Jim Ellison imagined that sound as part of his life. A confirmed bachelor, a loner, that's what he was, and not once had he ever entertained the idea of having children. The concept of being a father had never held any appeal. Sure, kids could be cute, from a distance, but the idea of being lumbered with one of these 'mini' persons was definitely not a desirable one. Over the years, he'd watched friends and colleagues fawn over these noisy, messy, demanding creatures like they were God's gift to the universe. A first word spoken, first steps taken, revered and cherished like some divine happening. Nope, Jim Ellison just couldn't see the attraction.

A small noise from the second-story bedroom focused his attention away from his thoughts. The sound – the pitter-patter of little feet. Little feet which belonged to his very own excessively noisy, exceedingly messy and not so demanding little creature. His world, God's gift to his universe, his son. "No, I just can't see the attraction," he smiled.

With one last stir of the dying embers, he replaced the wrought iron poker on its stand next to the fireplace. Flicking off the light on his way out of the cosy living room, he arrived at the bottom of the staircase just in time to intercept the child who was half asleep on his feet.

"Hey Chief," he said softly, squatting down to Blair's eye level. "What are you doing up? It's way past your bedtime."

"Did Santa come 'gain?" The exhausted little boy, whose sapphire blue eyes were losing their battle to stay open, held his arms out to be picked up.

Jim reached out and lifted his son into his arms. "No, baby; Santa's gone home to Mrs. Claus at the North Pole and right now, I betcha he's tucked up snug and cosy in his bed, just like you should be." He settled his son against his chest and quietly padded up the staircase. By the time he reached the top, Blair was once again in the Land of Nod.

Entering the small bedroom next to his own, Ellison eyed the wolf pup that had taken up residence on his son's pillow. Moving the toys that were scattered all over the floor with his foot, he crossed to the bed, "Hey, Lassie, move it." The pup opened one eye, a brilliant blue eye that bore a striking resemblance to those of the little boy in his arms, but it made no effort to leave the warmth of its sleepy hollow. "Do the words, 'dog pound' mean anything to you, Pluto?" he threatened. A familiar bump on the back of his leg made him groan. "Oh great, here comes the rest of the peanut gallery." The pup disappeared from Blair's pillow, only to make its reappearance next to the jaguar. Jim flipped over the pillow and lay Blair on the bed, tucking the blankets snugly around his shoulders. "Look guys," he said, turning his attention back to the wayward animal spirits, "I appreciate the fact that you're here to protect us, but don't you think you're kinda working outside regulations here? The way I see it, you're only supposed to appear when there's something up, not drop in anytime there's a warm bed or somethin' good on TV." He pointed his finger at the large cat. "And you know that." The dark cat gave him a piercing stare and, with a flick of its tail, turned to leave the room, wolf pup in tow. "At least stay off the furniture," Jim whispered harshly after the retreating figures. "Incacha, can't you put a leash on the pets?" he mumbled.

He didn't receive an answer, but then again, he wasn't expecting one. It appeared to him that those who lingered on the spirit plain suffered severely from selective deafness. Turning his attention back toward the sleeping child, he mumbled, "I swear, those two will be the death of me. Animal hair all over the sofa, fleas in the bed; God knows how many different types of parasites they're carrying around with them." I wonder if you can buy worming tablets for animal spirits, he thought idly. Picking up Big Bird from the floor, he placed it on the pillow next to his son. Bending down, he placed a kiss on Blair's smooth forehead. "Merry Christmas, Chief," he whispered. Leaving the door ajar, he made his way down the hall to check on the other occupant of the house.

Pausing outside Lucas's door, Jim knocked softly. The sound of steady breathing beyond told him that Lucas was fast asleep. A slight rattle of congested lungs still lingered stubbornly, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sound that had come from the kid a couple of weeks earlier. The flu bug had done the rounds with exceptional efficiency. Yearly flu shots had boosted his own immunity and the bug had passed him by without causing so much as a sneeze. The rest of his family had not been so lucky. The bug had struck Jessie first, before spreading to Blair and finally to Lucas.

He entered the room, picking up several items of clothing that lay scattered on the floor and placed them on the chair by the bed. Easing the book that Lucas had been reading from his hand, he placed it on the bedside table, his actions knocking over a framed photograph – a photo of a much younger Lucas and his little brother. He studied the picture, which had obviously been taken in happier times. Two bright, shining faces smiled out at him; Scott's arms wound around Lucas's neck as his brother carried him across the sand. Jim's eyes wandered, with a measure of sadness back to the sleeping teenager.

To the outside world, Lucas was nothing more than a happy-go lucky kid, a typical teenager, and in many ways, he was. But in so many other ways, he wasn't. There was a sadness that filled the boy's heart, a heartbreak caused by years of sodomy, abuse and loss. Jim often wondered if he had done the right thing by taking the teenager in. Had he, by offering Lucas a place in their home, unwittingly put the boy in danger? Maybe if he had walked away that day at the hospital, then Lucas might not have gotten caught up in the uncertainties of dealing with what had become a part of their lives. He took one last look at the photo. "Or maybe, what Incacha said is right. 'Our future is preordained'."

Rescuing the blankets, which had half-fallen on the floor, his eyes lingered on the healed wound which had left a scar on Lucas's lower back. He adjusted the covers over the kid, his hand coming to rest lightly on the teenager's blond hair. "Not so typical after all, I guess," he whispered sadly.

~oOo~

Three Weeks Earlier

Blair sat at the breakfast table, Vegemite smeared all over his face. "Yuck," Jim grimaced, wiping off the offending black paste. "I don't know how you can eat that stuff."

Blair beamed up at his father, the black paste still stuck between his teeth. "Megan say it good fo' me. She say I a happy little vegemite and I got rosy cheeks." Like most of the members of Major Crime, Blair had taken a liking to the newest detective to grace the department. Jim, on the other hand, was still undecided. He found the woman to be assuming and a little overbearing and had acted quickly, nipping in the bud any thought that Simon might have had of making the Australian detective his new partner. So far his best friend, and boss, hadn't forced the issue.

"Well, rosy or not, it's still disgusting." Jim lifted Blair from the chair and planted the youngster on the ground. "Why don't you go wake the lump?"

"Lucas not a lump. He a teenageh."

"Exactly, a lump of a teenager." He swatted Blair playfully on the backside. "Now scoot, soldier. You have your orders."

"Aye aye, sir," Blair giggled, running out of the room and heading toward the stairs.

"Wrong department!" Jim bellowed after him while smiling fondly. With consistent attendance at the day care centre, Blair was growing out of his baby-speech. The teachers had told him not to fuss about Blair's missing 'r' sound, but to make a point of stressing the pronunciation at opportune moments. Whether Blair had noticed or not, he wasn't certain, but he had no plans to be a pushy parent. He'd decided months ago that Blair was develop and learn under his own terms.

Blair didn't bother knocking when he reached Lucas's door. His father told him he must always knock, but Lucas didn't mind if he didn't. He pushed his way through the door and launched himself onto the bed. "Lucas, Lucas, wake up," he said, shaking the lump that was covered by blankets. "Daddy sayed it time fo' you to get up to go to school." He pulled back the covers, letting the cold air drift over the shirtless teenager.

"Agghh," Lucas moaned, as soon as the cold air hit his skin. "You little brat!" Without warning, he grabbed Blair and wrestled him down on the bed, pulling the covers over both their heads. "You're gonna get it for that, Sport."

In the short time that Lucas had known the three-year-old, Blair had become like a brother to him, and this time he would do whatever it took to make sure Blair was happy and, more importantly, safe. He felt responsible for Blair, and it was a responsibility he didn't take lightly.

Blair squirmed to get out of Lucas's hold. "No, no tickles!" His giggles quickly turned into full-fledged laughter.

"You know the magic word." Lucas's fingers dusted over Blair's stomach.

"Uncle, uncle!" Blair squealed.

"Wise decision, Sport." Lucas pulled back the covers and rolled out of bed. He grabbed his shirt from the chair and turned back to Blair. "You want a ride?"

"Ah-ha." Blair smiled as he climbed onto Lucas back and wound his arms tightly around his neck.

"Hold on tight." Lucas jogged out of his room and bounded down the stairs, his mood lightened by the sound of Blair's giggles. Making his way into the kitchen, he gave Blair a quick raspberry on the cheek, and plopped him down on the kitchen chair.

Jim smiled, but held a small measure of concern about how easily Blair could wrap Lucas around his little finger. He'd broached the subject a couple of times, talking to Lucas about not always letting Blair get his way, but Lucas wasn't listening, so he backed off. He knew the kid still carried around a lot of guilt when it came to Scott, and if spoiling Blair somehow eased the burden, then for the time being, he would let it slide.

"A cooked breakfast?" Lucas turned his attention toward Jim and the tantalizing smell of bacon. "What's the occasion?"

"Does there need to be an occasion for a man to eat bacon?"

Lucas slipped a sweatshirt over his head and pulled it down. "I guess not." Noticing a bowl of cereal in front of Blair, Lucas picked up a slice of bacon. "You want some, Sport?"

Blair shook his head. "Nope, that bad for you' heartewies."

Jim lifted an eyebrow at his son's comment. "Your hearteries?"

"Ah-ha. Jessie told Joel he not 'llowed to eat bacon. It bad for his heartewies. She sayed Joel alweady too fat."

"She did, did she?" Jim took the chair next to Blair, hoping to get some more information out of the three-year-old. Any personal information was always good ribbing material around the bullpen. "What else did she say?" he encouraged.

"Jessie sayed that Joel have to eat carrots and lettuce and begatables, and undeh no 'stances is he to eat Wondehbu'geh."

"Man, that's rough," Lucas injected, making short work of his breakfast.

Blair looked over at his father with mischief in his eyes. "Jessie also sayed that he not 'llowed to have doughnuts."

All thoughts of ribbing Joel about his diet suddenly disappeared. Depriving a cop of doughnuts was downright cruel and, right this very minute, Ellison couldn't think of a more heinous crime. "No doughnuts," he breathed. "That's worse than rough."

Lucas swallowed his remaining eggs and drained his juice in one go. "You really are a cop, aren't you?"

Picking up a kitchen towel, Jim flung it at Lucas. "And don't you forget it, bucko," he warned, light-heartedly.

Lucas caught the towel before it reached his head. "You might be a cop, but you throw like a girl."

Jim's glare was only for show. In the short time that Lucas had been living with him, he felt that they were finally really beginning to connect. He felt at ease around the kid and got the feeling that Lucas was starting to feel the same way around him. Lucas no longer pulled away when he touched him or got too close. A slap on the back or an arm around the shoulder no longer exacted the nervous reaction it once had. In fact, on more than one occasion, Lucas had been the initiator, and a comment made in jest often turned into a harmless game of roughhousing.

"You'll keep," Jim said, catching the towel as Lucas threw it back.

"Daddy," piped up Blair. He now had the milk carton and was doing an excellent job of drowning his cornflakes. "Holly's mom is having a baby."

Jim took the milk carton from Blair's hands. "Is she, Chief? I bet Holly's excited."

"Ah-ha. Her mom comed to pick her up yesterday and her tummy is this fat now." The little boy spread his arms open wide.

Jim smiled. "Are you sure she's really that big?"

Blair nodded, taking a spoonful of soggy cornflakes. "Daddy, how did the baby get in her tummy?"

Never one to miss an opportunity, Lucas grinned wickedly. "Yeah Jim, how did the baby get in her stomach?"

Doing his best to ignore Lucas, Jim searched for the right answer. I know the answer to this one. It was in that book. His mind clicked over, trying to remember where he'd left it. Being a father was still relatively new to him and, when Blair had first arrived, he had panicked. He didn't know the first thing about raising kids; what to do and say, and more importantly, what not to do and say. Deciding he was in desperate need of help, he had raced out to the bookstore and bought the most informative book on parenting he could find. He'd started to put his newfound knowledge into practice, until one day Jessie pulled him aside. She told him to forget about what was in the book. "Trust your instincts, Jim. You're a great dad. Just go with the flow," she'd advised.

"Daddy," Blair said again. "How did the baby get into her tummy?" Avoidance, Jim's mind now screamed. Go with the avoidance angle until you can work out an answer to give him. It might not be the right thing to do, but he had no idea how to answer this one. He looked into his son's expectant face and his idea of avoidance flew out the window.

"Well Chief," he started awkwardly, fully aware of Lucas's presence, "when two people love each other and they decide that they would like to have a baby to make their family complete..." Jim paused, looking at the smirk on Lucas's face. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"Nah, got plenty of time." Lucas placed his elbows on the table. "Besides, this is way too good to miss."

"Daddy, did you and mama love each otheh?" Blair asked, squashing his cornflakes down with his spoon.

Instantly the mood at the table changed and Lucas was the first to react to Blair's question. Without hesitation, he plucked Blair off the kitchen chair. "Man, look at the time. Come on, Sport. We need to get dressed." He flung Blair over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "If I'm late for gym today, Coach Vans will have my hide tarred and feathered."

Retreating footsteps and the sound of laughter coming from Blair left Jim alone with the dishes and with his guilt. "No, kiddo, I didn't love your mama. But I do love you," he whispered quietly.

~oOo~

Simon squeezed Blair's hand as they made their way down the hall toward the bullpen. Jim had been in court most of the afternoon and had been held up by the DA. The woman had a unique talent for pissing people off, and Simon had already anticipated what his detective's mood would be like when he returned. To save the officers of Major Crime from the wrath that could be Jim Ellison, he had decided that a secret weapon was needed. He looked down at the secret weapon, smiling as the youngster bounced along, waving to everyone he passed.

"How comed Jessie not picked me up?" Blair asked, trying to keep up with Simon's long stride.

"'Cause she's still feeling a little under the weather, Squirt."

Blair scrunched up his nose. "Huh?"

Simon stopped at the vending machine. "She's still sick – but just a little bit." He ruffled Blair's curls. "You want something to eat?"

"Nope, I not hungry."

Simon bent down, touching Blair's forehead. "You feeling okay?"

"Ah-ha." Blair wound his arms around Simon's neck. "What time is Daddy being here?"

Simon stood, taking Blair up with him. "He should be here in about an hour or so. He was going to pick Lucas up from school first."

Blair seemed satisfied with the answer and content to be in Simon's company as they continued down the hall.

~oOo~

A shriek took the detectives of Major Crime by surprise as Banks entered the bullpen. "No, Joel!" Blair cried out. "You not 'llowed!" He squirmed to get down from Simon's arms, rushing over to Joel's desk.

Joel Taggart blushed, placing the doughnut he held in his hand back down on the desk. "I wasn't going to eat it, Blair," he insisted. "I was just inspecting it... you know, to make sure it was fresh. Henri was just saying how he really felt like a pineapple doughnut, and well, I had to make sure it wasn't stale."

Henri, large as life and twice as brazen, waltzed casually up beside Joel, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Why, thank you, Joel," he said, plucking the deadly sweet from the desk. "That's so very thoughtful of you."

"What about you heartewies, Henri?" Blair asked, crossing his arms, a crease forming on his brow. "Jessie sayed that doughnuts are very bad for you heartewies."

"Kid has a point," Simon injected, removing the pastry from Henri's hand. "I better lock this up in my office for safe keeping. After all, it is my duty to look after my men." He gave Henri a slap on the back. "And that includes their 'hearteries'."

By this time, Blair had forgotten about the doughnut and had clambered up onto Joel's knee. He pulled a book from his backpack. "Look Joel, I got a book all 'bout Santa. Did you know that he brings presents to ev'ybody at Chwistmas? Daddy sayed they only thwee mo' weeks to Chwistmas and we going to go see him tomowwow at the mall. I will ask him if he can make Jessie betteh."

Joel gave Blair a quick squeeze. "Thank you, Blair. I'm sure she'll feel a whole lot better just by hearing that."

"That okay," Blair said as he started flipping through the book, stopping when he came to a picture of Santa in his workshop. "What that?" he asked, pointing to an object in Santa's hand.

Joel looked closely at the picture. "That's a list."

"Why do Santa have a list?"

"Well, because he has a list of all the children he's going to bring presents to. You see, Santa only brings presents to good little boys and girls."

"Oh," Blair said, looking a little bewildered and a little unsure.

Joel pulled Blair further back onto his lap. "I bet if we could see that list, your name would be right on the top."

A brilliant smile graced the three-year-old's face. "Do you really think I on the list?"

"I'd bet my bottom dollar," Joel said sincerely.

Smiling, and knowing that Blair was in good hands, Simon took the confiscated pastry into his office. "Jamaican would go perfect with this," he muttered in satisfaction.

~oOo~

Blair quietly pushed open the door to Simon's office and wandered casually across the room. Banks put down his pen, giving Blair his full attention. "Hey, Squirt, you got a new book?" he asked. Jim Ellison's son held a special place in his heart; giving his time to the youngster was more of pleasure than a chore. Blair seemed to have a unique ability to captivate all those around him, and it wasn't hard to get caught up in his spell. Whether it was his big blue eyes that – despite the horror they had witnessed – always seemed to shine with trust and love, or whether it was the enormous heart and caring nature of the child, Simon wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was a nice feeling when Blair held his hand or clambered onto his knee for a hug. It made him feel special and proud that Blair trusted him enough to consider him a member of his family.

Blair put the book down on Simon's desk. "Ah-ha. It not my mine, but I borrowed it from the lib'awy. I has my very own lib'awy card, now." The little boy moved closer to Simon, draping himself over the Captain's legs.

Simon tugged playfully on one of Blair's curls. "You want me to read it to you?"

"Nope. I already readed it to Joel." Blair turned his head and looked up at Simon, his eyes full of expectation. "Uncle Simon, where Mama?"

Simon was taken aback by the little boy's question. He wanted to answer Blair honestly, but it really wasn't his place to tell Blair about his mother. This was a question that only Jim had the right to answer. "Kiddo," he said with a measure of reserve, "I really think you should ask your dad that question."

"I can't," Blair replied quietly.

"Why not?" Simon asked, a little surprised by Blair's answer.

"'Cause I not think he like to talk about mama. I think that when I went with mama it made him sad, and I not like my daddy to be sad."

Blair pulled a piece of paper from the back of the book and unfolded it, showing it to Simon. It was a drawing of his family – a colourful picture that showed Naomi standing next to Jim, holding his hand. "I want to give this to mama for Chwistmas, but Lucas sayed that mama was sick. Is she in the hostable, Uncle Simon?"

Placing his hands under Blair's armpits, Simon pulled the child onto his lap. He couldn't help but wrap his arms tightly around Blair as he unconsciously started to rock. "Yes Squirt, she is in the hospital and she's getting the care she needs."

Blair mumbled into Simon's shirt, "Will you take me to see her?"

"Blair, buddy, I can't. I'm sorry, but it's not my place." He pushed the child back so he could see his face. "Why don't you talk to your dad about this? Or maybe I could talk to him for you, if you're worried."

Blair let go of the picture, watching as it fluttered to the ground. Simon's heart sank with sadness. He felt like he'd just betrayed Blair. The child had come to him for help, and he had let him down.

A noise from the outer office made Blair turn his head toward the door. "Daddy and Lucas," he said.

Simon cupped Blair's cheek. "Kiddo, can I talk to dad for you? Or maybe we could do it together."

Blair simply shook his head and moved to get off Simon's knee. "I go and see my daddy."

As Blair left the room, he left the drawing of his family on the floor.

~oOo~

Lucas followed Jim down the hallway to the first floor elevators, amused by the way people shifted out of the detective's way. He'd known the instant he hopped in the truck that Jim was not in a good mood, so he'd remained silent, simply observing. They arrived at the elevator and not a single person was game enough to share it with them. "Boy, you really do have these guys bluffed, don't you?" Lucas remarked as the doors slid shut.

"And you're not, I suppose?" Jim replied, hardly giving Lucas a glance.

"You don't scare me, Jim," Lucas answered very casually. And it was true; Jim didn't scare him. He wasn't being blasé nor was he trying to play the tough guy. He knew exactly what he was capable of, and going up against Jim Ellison was not one of them. He'd probably last a few rounds, but ultimately, he'd get the shit kicked out of him. But still, Jim didn't scare him. There was something about the detective, something he felt he could trust.

Jim moved closer to Lucas, observing both the expression on his face and the look in his eyes. Fuck me dead, he thought, I think this kid does actually trust me! He took hold of Lucas's tie, adjusting it tightly around the kid's neck. The downside of going to a private school, in Lucas's opinion, was the uniform, and somehow the kid never seemed able to wear it correctly. Jim moved his hand from Lucas's tie to his cheek, giving it a hard pat, then smiled. "You're right, I'm full of shit."

Lucas burst out laughing. "Don't I know it!"

The elevator dinged at the seventh floor and Jim grabbed Lucas roughly around the neck, dragging him through the doors. "Watch yourself, kid. You don't want to go messing with the master."

Lucas pulled out of the headlock. "Could take you on any day, old man." He playfully punched Jim on the arm, quickly scooting around the corner before Jim could retaliate. "Not just old, but slow as well," he laughed.

In less than the space of five minutes, Lucas Wilder had managed to tame the mighty Jim Ellison temper.

~oOo~

"Hey, Munchkin!" Jim said, swinging Blair into his arms and giving him a kiss. "You been good?"

"Ah-ha. I readed Joel a book and I maked sure he and Henri didn't eat any doughnuts."

"You did, did you?"

"Yeah, he did," replied a sullen Henri, who was now munching dejectedly on one of Joel's carrots. "Not normal if you ask me. A cop's son, and he doesn't like doughnuts." Henri then spotted Lucas, wandering through the door, unwrapping a candy bar. "Hey, Blair, how come Lucas is allowed to eat that?"

"'Cause Lucas not fat and he has good heartewies," Blair said, nodding his head.

The office burst into laughter. "Out of the mouths of babes," Rafe joked, giving his partner a pat on the stomach. "You know H, I reckon the kid might have a point."

Henri pushed Rafe's hand away, muttering a quiet obscenity before biting down on the carrot stick.

"Jim, can I see you for a second?" Simon interrupted.

"Sure, Sir, what's up?"

"In my office."

Jim raised his eyebrows, putting Blair down on the floor. Before he even had to ask Lucas to keep an eye on Blair, Lucas was by Blair's side. Not exactly sure why, but even in a room full of cops, Jim felt the most comfortable when Lucas was there to look after Blair. It was almost like it was Lucas's place to do so. He shrugged off the idea as quickly as it came and ruffled his son's curls. "I won't be long."

Ellison closed the office door behind him. "Simon, if this is about picking up Blair, I'm really sorry if it inconvenienced you."

"Jim, this is not about picking Blair up. I love the kid, you know that, but it is about Blair."

"About Blair, how?"

"He gave this to me." Simon handed over the drawing Blair had shown him. "He asked if I would take him to see Naomi."

"You're kidding?" Jim looked at Blair's drawing. "I don't quite know what to say. He hasn't said a word to me about his mother. He hasn't even asked where she is."

"Apparently he's worried about your reaction."

"My reaction?"

"Yeah, the kid's worried he'll make you upset if he talks about her."

"Simon, I've tried to tell him he can talk to me about anything, but I guess it hasn't sunk in." Jim took a seat and let out a long sigh. "So what am I supposed to do? I can't let that woman near him, not after what she's put him through. The day she let that bastard touch him is the day she gave up all parental rights to him and I won't do it, Simon. For Blair's sake and my own, I won't ever let her near him again."

"How are you going to explain that to Blair?"

"I don't know. I'll just tell him that his mother is too sick to have visitors."

"How about you tell him the truth about how you feel?"

"Simon, he's three years old. He's not going to understand how I feel."

"Jim, he already does. Why do you think he came to me and not you? Just talk to him. He's a smart kid; long as you're honest with him, he'll understand."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." Simon pushed himself to his feet. "You guys got anything planned for dinner?"

"Just leftovers," Jim said absently. His thoughts still focused on Blair, and Naomi.

"Well, how 'bout we go out for Chinese? I'd offer to pay, but the way the teenage vacuum cleaner out there can suck up food, I think I'd have to mortgage the house to pay the bill." He rounded the desk and tapped Jim on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go grab something to eat."

Jim folded Blair's drawing and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. After everything that Naomi had put Blair through, his son still wanted to see the woman, and he was struggling to understand why.

As if reading Ellison's mind, Simon spoke up. "Jim, I know how you feel, but she's still his mother, and because of that fact he'll probably always love her. It's only natural. He's still a baby and too young to hate her." He squeezed Jim's arm. "I also know how Blair feels about you. A blind man could see how much you mean to that boy. You're his dad and you're his hero."

Jim did know how much Blair loved him, and maybe that was part of the problem. His three-year-old had taken on the role of his emotional protector, and it had to stop. He had to make Blair understand that no matter what the problem, he could come to him.

"Come on; let's go eat." Simon reached for his jacket. "Lucas is raiding the doughnut box and we both know how dangerous that can be in a room full of armed cops."

~oOo~

"Daddy, is that Santa?" Blair whispered, when he spotted the big jolly man in a red suit.

"Sure is, Partner. You want to go say hello?"

"Will you come with me?"

Jim smiled. It had been an awfully long time since he'd paid a visit to Santa, and he had no intention of going it alone. He grabbed Lucas by the jacket, as the teenager tried to steal away. "Lucas and I would love to come and see Santa with you, Munchkin." He smiled, draping his arm around Lucas's shoulder. "Do you have your list little boy?" he asked.

"You're as funny as a week of Mondays, Jim," Lucas grumbled, "but just remember, at the end of the day, I will always be younger and stronger than you, so you really should watch yourself."

"Yeah, right, kid. You just keep telling yourself that and maybe one day, when I'm feeling sorry for you, I might just let you win a round." Only a couple of inches shorter than he was, and still growing, Lucas was by no means a forty-pound weakling. He'd regained most of the weight he'd lost while in the hospital and developed some solid muscles. They'd started working out together, and Jim found he was enjoying the company. On several occasions, the workouts had led to a bit of harmless roughhousing and, although Lucas had never won any of the wrestling matches, he had held his own.

With his arm still slung around Lucas's shoulder, Jim glanced down at Blair as they advanced up the 'Santa line'. Blair had wound his arm around Lucas's leg and was leaning into the touch of Lucas's fingers as they chorded through his chestnut curls. Guardian. It was a single word, and only a fleeting thought, but its insight was powerful. Jim looked back at Lucas. My God, this kid is the guardian of my son.

~oOo~

"And what's your name, young feller?" Santa asked, as Blair approached.

Blair eyed the big man carefully, content to keep his position between his father and Lucas. "You not know?" he asked. "I not on the list?"

Jim felt Blair squeeze his hand. "Of course you're on the list, Blair," Jim said quickly, emphasising his son's name.

"Your dad's right, Blair." Santa recovered quickly. "Now, let me think. Hmm, I do seem to remember that name. Ah yes, Blair. You're on the top of my list, if I'm not mistaken."

Blair flashed a toothy grin and moved closer. "Is Daddy and Lucas on the list?"

Santa winked at the pair. "I can't recall. Have they both been good?"

"Ah-ha. Daddy is always good, and Lucas is most of the time. 'Cept when I sawed him kissing Lauwa. Is kissing girls being good?"

Lucas surged forward in an attempt to interrupt Blair before he spilled all the beans. "Hey Sport, I don't think Santa really wants to hear about that."

"Yes, but Jim does!" Ellison slapped Lucas on the back. "Looks like you and I are in for an interesting conversation when we get home, my boy." He smiled wickedly, now enjoying the awkward situation Blair had landed Lucas in.

"Can't wait," Lucas groaned.

"So, what would you like for Christmas?" asked Santa, who had drawn Blair closer and now had ahold of his hands. He'd been a department store Santa for a good many years, and his instinct told him that Blair was a child who would not feel comfortable sitting on his knee.

"I want Jessie to get betteh, 'cause she gots the flu. And I want Joel to have some new tools fo' his shed. Me and him are building a go-caht." Blair paused for a moment, thinking of what else he wanted Santa to bring. "I want Uncle Simon to get a new fishing rod and Lucas to get some new books and I want Daddy to get ..." Blair rattled off a long list of what he thought all of the members of his family should receive for Christmas, but never once mentioned what he wanted.

"Well, that's a very good list, Blair," Santa acknowledged, "but what would you like?"

Blair thought for a second. "I not know."

"Well, how about you leave it up to me? I bet you I can come up with something extra special for you on Christmas Day."

Blair bounced excitedly. "Wow, thank you, Santa." He stood up on his toes and gave the big man a hug, his earlier anxiety gone. Pulling away, he said. "In my book it says that I gotta leave you milk and cookies." He ran his little hand over the Santa stomach. "I think I will leave you a carrot. They better for your heartewies. Jessie says heartewies have to last you a lifetime."

Santa chuckled, "Jessie sounds like a very wise woman. Thank you, Blair, I'll be looking forward to my special treat on Christmas Eve." He handed Blair a present from his sack, a book that the department store had produced and was handed out to every child that visited Santa. Blair accepted the present with glee in his eyes.

Jim took Blair's hand. "Thanks Santa, it's been interesting."

"Yeah, real interesting. Thanks Santa," Lucas mumbled, making a hasty exit.

"Hey," Jim said, watching Lucas unexpectedly skulk away. "Where're you going?"

Lucas turned around. "I just need to do a few things."

Jim moved closer. "You okay?" he asked. "You know I was only joking back there, right? I wasn't really going to give you the birds and bees talk."

"Well I guess it would be a little late for that." Lucas lowered his voice, aware that Blair was standing next to Jim. "I mean I'm not exactly the blushing virgin."

"Lucas," Jim started. He'd only meant to tease the kid. He hadn't realised it would cause such a reaction.

"Jim," Lucas interrupted. "I just need some time by myself, okay?"

"Sure kid, whatever you need." Ellison looked as his watch. "You want to meet us for lunch at twelve? No pressure, your choice."

Now feeling a little stupid over his outburst, Lucas shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, okay. Twelve sounds good."

"Good. We'll meet you on the first floor at the cafe at the end of the food court."

As Lucas moved off into the crowd, Blair ran after him. He tugged on the teenager's leg, pulling him up. "I sorry, Lucas," he blurted.

"Sorry for what, Sport?" Lucas asked, crouching down so he was eye level with Blair.

"Sorry for telling Santa you secwet. I not know it was a secwet." A look of worry crossed Blair's face. "Do you still love me?"

Lucas pulled Blair into his body and hugged him tightly. He placed a kiss on the top of Blair's hair. "Always," he whispered.

~oOo~

"Daddy, can I go play?" Blair asked, already hopping down from his chair. There was a playground in the food court, and Jim had chosen a table that gave him a good view of the whole area.

"Okay, but you know the rules."

"No talking to strangehs, and yell if I need you."

Jim watched Blair cross the short distance to the play equipment, and it didn't take long before his son had made a friend. He turned his attention toward Lucas, one eye still on Blair. "So, did you get done what you needed to?"

"Most of it." Lucas pushed several shopping bags under the table with his foot. "Hey, look, I'm sorry about before. I guess I was just feeling a little crowded."

"Lucas, anytime you need space, all you need to do is say so. I know it must be hard adjusting to having people around all the time, especially when you're used to being on your own and doing your own thing."

"No, it's not that. I like being around you guys; it's just that sometimes it's hard when you treat me like I'm sixteen or something."

"News flash, kid, you are sixteen."

"In age maybe, but not in experience." Lucas looked over at Blair. "I had sex with Naomi, you know!"

Jim didn't show any reaction towards Lucas's statement. The kid did this to him on occasion. He'd let loose with something from his past, just to see if he'd get a reaction. He was being tested, and he knew it was because Lucas still had reservations about his place in their family. Understandably the kid was still insecure, and Jim had a very distinct feeling that thoughts of being kicked out were never far from the teenager's mind. When Lucas came out with these statements, it was almost as if he were trying to paint an unsavoury picture of himself in order to hurry the process along.

Straight-faced, Ellison responded. "So did I."

They both sat for a few minutes, staring at each other, making no further comment until the silence was finally broken by Blair as he came charging across from the playground and crashed into his father's legs.

Lucas broke first, laughing as he watched the rambunctious child use Jim's leg as a climbing frame. "I guess you did."

Jim scooped up Blair and engulfed him in a hug. "Yep, the best mistake of my life." He blew a sloppy raspberry on Blair's cheek.

Even though Blair squirmed away in disgust, Lucas could see love in Blair's eyes. He felt the pull of sadness, for his own childhood lost and a love he had not known for a very long time.

~oOo~

Ellison was quick to snap a photo as Blair swished his arms and legs back and forth in the snow. "Look Daddy, a snow angel." A fresh layer of snow had just fallen, perfect for some winter fun. "Come on, Daddy, you make one."

"Me?"

"Ah-ha. You snow angel will be really big."

Jim pocketed the camera and got down on his hands and knees. Blair jumped onto him, pushing him over, laughing as they tumbled and tousled in the snow.

"Hey, Munchkin, what do you say we get Lucas out here to join in the fun?" Lucas was inside by the fire, trying to catch up on homework he'd left to the last minute.

Blair picked up on the mischief in his father's eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"Because, my little co-conspirator, we are going to have a snow fight."

Blair bounced. He'd read about snow fights, but he'd never had one before.

Jim winked. "Ready?"

"Ready," Blair chimed.

On the count of three, the plan was put into action. "Lucas, Lucas, come quick!" Behind Jim's back was a loosely-packed snowball. The detective was ready and armed.

Lucas appeared at the back door. "What's up?" he asked. No sooner than he'd spoken, a snowball flew across the yard, hitting him square in the face.

"Who's old and slow now?" Ellison chuckled.

Lucas wiped the slush off his face, flicking it away before stabbing his finger in Jim's direction. "This is war. You realise that, don't you?" He grabbed his jacket from the peg by the door, intent on revenge. All homework was forgotten as a volley of snowballs went flying. Like Blair, he'd never had a snowball fight before, and he intended to make the most of it.

~oOo~

"I fwe...eezing," Blair stuttered, his teeth chattering together.

Jim scooped his son up. Blair's jeans were soaked through and his cheeks glowed red with the cold. "Come on, Munchkin, time for a nice hot shower."

Standing on the bathroom tiles, Blair's fingers fumbled with the top button of his jeans. "That was fun, Daddy. Can we build a snowman tomorrow?"

Jim adjusted the faucets, waiting for the perfect water temperature. "I can't see why not," he answered. Satisfied that the water was warm enough, he finished undressing Blair and ushered him into the shower stall. Getting out of his own sodden clothes, he also hopped under the warm spray. Picking up a bottle of shampoo, his thoughts wandered back to the first time he'd taken a shower with Blair in the room. The child had been cautious and unsure of the situation and it had taken a lot of thought and courage on his part to go through with it. He'd assumed that because Blair had been the victim of sexual abuse, he had to treat him with kid gloves, that nakedness was something to be hidden, to be ashamed of. But Blair's day care teacher had broached the subject with him after Blair had made a passing comment to her, and he'd finally come to the realisation that if Blair were to have any hope of moving forward, he needed to feel totally comfortable in his own environment. Blair needed to feel safe and secure when it came to having a bath or taking a shower. He needed to know that nothing bad was going to happen. A break-through had come one night when Blair had asked if he could take a shower with him. "Yes" was the only answer he could give, because it was the only answer that would prove to his son that he was safe and that it was okay.

Blair's voice snapped Jim back from his thoughts. "Daddy, did we win?"

"'Course we did, Munchkin." Jim bent down and started to work the shampoo into Blair's hair.

"But Lucas say he wonned."

"He's a teenager, Chief, they always think they win." Jim lifted Blair up into his arms. "Eyes shut," he ordered, directing the spray onto Blair's head. Satisfied that all the soap was out of Blair's hair, he placed him back down on the tiles. With Blair splashing happily in the water, he soaped up his own hair, letting the water relax his muscles. Lucas had managed to get in a few good shots and, while he'd never openly admit it to the boy, he did smart in more places than not.

~oOo~

Blair ran from the bathroom, through his father's bedroom and out into the hall, naked as a jaybird. He squealed as Lucas grabbed him and tossed him in the air. Jim emerged from his room, a dry towel in his hand. "Good catch," he grinned.

Lucas deposited Blair into Jim's waiting arms. "You sure this brat's not a runaway from a nudist colony?"

Jim wrapped Blair snugly in the soft towel. "Just a typical three-year-old." The sentence felt good. It felt right and Jim nearly had himself believing in it.

As Lucas continued down the hall and into his room, Jim didn't miss the stiffness in the teenager's step. "A bit sore, are we kiddo?" he asked.

"Never," Lucas replied with all the teenage bravado he could muster. He closed the door and leaned on the oak panel. "Ouch," he moaned, softly.

~oOo~

TBC

Hopefully I'll get more finished and uploaded this evening.