Disclaimer & Notes: Not mine. What happens when you attend a coworker's baby shower and have TS on the brain. My knowledge of law is limited, so the rules of fictional law apply. Written for the Sentinel Angst list and is my first dues fic. Thanks to Kickair8P and Nevada for the beta. Revised slightly from original posted version to better line up with the remixed, slash version.

Warnings: Kidfic, angst and a little bit of hope. :-) Blair is not a cop.
Rated: PG-13 for language.

Unexpected Delivery

By Raine Wynd

Walking into the loft with a bag full of healthcare from the natural food store, the chorus of a particularly catchy song he'd heard on the radio stuck on auto-loop in his brain and pleasantly crowding out the evidence photos he'd seen that day, Blair didn't immediately notice the scene in the living room. He went through the routine of putting away what he'd purchased, hanging up his jacket, taking off his shoes, and grabbed a bottle of ginger ale from the fridge. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was nearly time for the TV program he'd wanted to watch to begin, and headed for his favorite spot to watch it.

Halfway there, Blair froze as his eyes registered the sight of his best friend holding a sleeping baby wrapped in what looked like an old sweatshirt. As far as Blair knew, Jim wasn't dating anyone; hadn't dated anyone in months. So whose baby was this? No one they knew had been expecting children.

"Sit down before you fall over with curiosity," Jim ordered, sounding resigned.

Deliberately, Blair chose a seat next to his friend, wanting to be closer. "So?" he prompted, not liking the way Jim sounded or the tired way Jim looked. Tired, Blair could understand, since Jim had been due back from his trip to Spokane, a five-hour trip by car. "Whose baby is this?"

"He's mine," Jim admitted.

"What? You wouldn't abandon –"

"I wouldn't, but Kate didn't tell me she was pregnant." Jim laughed without humor. "Not surprising, since she was a one night stand. Well, technically, two nights and three days, but who's counting?"

Blair stared at his friend. Women were rare enough in Jim's life that Blair could recall just who had been involved with Jim; living and working together as he and Jim did meant they were privy to more details of each other's lives than most best friends. 'Kate' was not a name that rang any bells. "So when did you meet Kate? Or should I ask where?"

"That four-day training convention in Spokane last year Simon insisted I attend," Jim said. "I went down to meet with a few of the guys, but as soon as I saw her, she was all I could see, all I could think of. She smelled so wonderful, and she was sitting alone at the bar. Had a hell of a shiner on her collarbone, and she looked just too fragile, too elegant to have that kind of bruise." Jim's voice roughened with memory. "Turned out she's a member of the local fencing club and got bruised in practice."

Oh, geez, Blair thought. Vulnerability mixed with strength was a huge pull for both of them; a fact Blair hadn't been cognizant of until a random comment from Jim had made Blair reevaluate his relationships with women. Throw in a Sentinel who was out of his element, away from the familiar, and the pull to find something familiar – even if it had all been a response to pheromones - had to have been difficult to resist. Jim wasn't a saint, and given the same temptation, Blair couldn't blame him for giving in. Hell, as heavily populated as Blair's own sex life had been at times, Blair knew he'd been incredibly lucky not to father anyone.

"You were careful, right?"

For the first time since Blair had walked in, Jim's smile held a touch of familiar irritation. "I was thanking your foresight in packing condoms. Though the lube was unnecessary."

Blair grinned, remembering how he'd managed to slip both items into Jim's suitcase at the last minute, on the pretext of double-checking that Jim had packed a set of Sentinel-safe sheets. "Hey, I figured if you didn't get lucky, a little lube couldn't hurt."

Jim rolled his eyes. "As if I didn't already have enough in the 'too much information about your sexual habits' file, Sandburg," he growled.

The familiar growl reassured Blair that Jim hadn't changed, just the situation, and that Jim was dealing the best way he knew how. "And the reason Kate didn't call to let you know she was pregnant sooner was?"

"She probably thought she could handle raising our son by herself." Jim let go of the breath he'd been holding, clearly remembering. "She was so beautiful, so strong. She was a computer engineer." Jim's grip tightened slightly on his son. "I should've called her. Didn't think she'd want to give up her job or her hobby to move."

"What did she look like?"

In reply, Jim reached for a photograph on the coffee table and handed it to Blair. The photographer had captured a woman with long black hair, green eyes, a pert nose and a dimpled smile. She had the elegant bone structure, curvaceous figure, and coloring of someone whose Welsh heritage had prevailed. She wore a tie-dyed V-neck top, a denim skirt, and high heels as she posed in mid-lunge with a fencer's foil in her left hand, her gaze directed over her right shoulder as she grinned mischievously at the photographer.

"It's a publicity shot for the fencing club she belonged to," Jim said quietly. "They were the focus of a local interest story in the paper three months ago. It was in the file the social worker gave me; said she'd asked for a recent photograph of Kate and that was the only one anyone who knew her could give."

"How did she die?" Blair prompted.

Jim sighed, looking resigned and sad. "She was killed in a car accident six weeks ago. It took Child Services that long to track me down – if she hadn't listed me as Cody's father on his birth certificate, I might've never have known." Jim looked down at his sleeping son. "I was planning on calling her when I got back. I just…."

"Didn't think she was more than just a case of really bad pheromones?" Blair finished knowingly. "And you'd given her your card, and figured if it wasn't, she'd call?"

Jim stared at him. "I don't know whether to be scared you know me that well or not," he finally said. When the baby started to fuss, waking up, Jim soothed him. "It's okay, world's pretty noisy and smelly, isn't it, Cody?" To Blair, Jim said, "Would you mind holding him?"

"I can't believe you're so calm," Blair remarked as he took the child, who wore little more than a diaper. The sweatshirt that was wrapped around him was faded and worn, and Blair hastily wrapped it more securely around the child. From the size and age of the sweatshirt, Blair guessed it was one of Jim's. Instantly, Cody stopped fussing, his blue eyes wide as he tried to absorb this new experience, his tiny nostrils flaring as he inhaled. "Oh, you're a curious one, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well, I've had more time to absorb that I'm a father," Jim acknowledged.

"So why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?"

Jim shrugged as he rose and went to the kitchen. "Wanted to get Cody calmed down first, see if my hunch was correct."

"And that hunch would be?" Still holding the baby, Blair trailed Jim into the kitchen. From a bag Blair hadn't noticed previously, Jim pulled out a baby bottle and a can of formula.

"Social worker said for a baby, he's pretty damn sensitive," Jim told him in a voice Blair recognized as his 'cop reporting the facts' tone. "Said he's been classified as a 'special needs' baby because among the records they found for him, he's got a list of allergies a mile long already."

Never slow on the uptake, Blair felt a rock drop into the pit of his stomach. "No wonder you're so calm. You've already accepted Cody's yours – you knew right from the moment you sensed him, right?" At Jim's nod, Blair suddenly understood why Jim wasn't exactly jumping up and down with joy. "Sensitive? How sensitive?"

"I turned on the white noise generators and he stopped crying. His skin was red from the clothes they had him in; I’m amazed he's tolerating the plastic in his diaper."

Blair groaned. "Did you even check?"

Jim shot him a glare. "No, I'm letting my son suffer. Think I'll teach him how to be an Ellison early, what the fuck do you think?"

"I think you've had a hell of a shock," Blair returned evenly, oddly relieved by Jim's display of temper. "Did you dream of this?"

Jim snorted. "Just like I told you before I left – the panther showing up, looking worried, but not helping any."

Blair sighed, remembering that conversation. Jim had been adamant that Blair stayed in Cascade with such a vague vision. "Guess we know now why."

Nodding, Jim continued, "I just thought I was going to Spokane to follow up on a case I had a while back – I didn't think I'd come home with my son. Don't you think if I'd known, I'd have gone looking for Kate sooner?" Opening the can of formula, Jim sniffed it and promptly poured it into the sink, his face reflecting his instant distaste. "And if you have any better ideas for feeding my son than that crap, I'd love to hear them."

"None at the moment," Blair said honestly, "but how about we start with 'not that brand' and go from there? We need to do some shopping anyway. Do you have anything more than what's in that bag?" He handed Cody back to his father and peered into the bag, seeing a can of formula and an official-looking folder, which Blair quickly flipped through. The folder contained Cody's birth certificate (he'd been born almost five months prior) along with a brief medical history detailing Cody's apparently numerous allergic reactions, an equally officious report from Child Services placing one Cody Michael Ellison with his father due to the death of his mother, and an pamphlet on how to change a diaper (written, Blair noted, for a grade-school audience in English, Spanish, and Chinese.)

Noting Blair's perusal of the bag and the folder, Jim said, "That's all they gave me. I figured you could help me. I just—" His calm resolve cracked a bit as Cody began to fuss a little more. "I never wanted this, Sandburg. Not once. Carolyn wanted kids, but I kept putting her off, and I never could tell her that I was afraid our kids would be just like me — freaks. I just didn't know why, back then. Not until you gave a name to what I am."

Blair closed the distance between them. "I know, Jim," he said gently, ignoring the freak comment in favor of focusing on the issue at hand. It was a measure of how distressed Jim was, Blair knew; Jim had largely accepted his Sentinel abilities. "Do you want to give Cody up?"

Anguished eyes met Blair's gaze. "To people who don't understand what a Sentinel is? How the hell do I put that in the paperwork? Oh, sorry, but your father knew what you're capable of, all the things you're likely to be allergic to, but he didn’t want to deal?" Jim snorted, and Blair knew Jim was remembering how his own father hadn't wanted to deal. "Or, better, that he'll sense stuff better than anyone else, see mystic crap, and no one will believe him until he stumbles across his Guide? What if he never gets that lucky? I can't do that. He's mine, Sandburg. My son." Jim's voice rose and Cody began to whimper.

"I know," Blair said in his best Guide voice, reaching out to touch Jim and Cody, soothing both father and son. "I had to ask, play devil's advocate. You know that. Does Simon know yet?"

Jim shook his head. "Not yet. He's not expecting me back until Monday." Abruptly, the tight rein Jim kept on his emotions cracked. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Maybe," Blair conceded, his heart aching for his friend, who looked suddenly so helpless. Jim had faced more dangerous situations, but nothing in his life had prepared him for this, unless he'd learned something from the Chopec that he hadn't told Blair. Somehow, Blair doubted it; even if he had, the way the Chopec raised children probably didn't translate all that well to Cascade.

"We should let Simon know — he did raise Daryl, you know. You should've called me as soon as you knew; I could've gotten —"

"In trouble for dropping everything for me, again," Jim countered, reminding him that while Blair was now a paid consultant to the PD, he had very little leeway for absences, a penalty for forcing a compromise between going to the Academy and remaining true to himself. "Besides, you left your phone on the charger, and getting a hold of you inside the station's chaos even when we're both there because you don't sit down long and everyone wants your input on their cases." Jim held up a free hand, forestalling the argument. "Look, you know now. You don't have to do–"

"Don't even go there, Ellison," Blair snapped. "For the record, I’m volunteering to help with your son. If it means we figure out a way to live together some place else, we'll do it — but you're not kicking me out. You got that?"

"I just —"

"No," Blair said flatly. "I'm your Guide, and until Cody's shows up or we figure out who it is, then I'm his Guide, too. Give, Jim. You're not winning this argument."

For a long, wordless moment, Jim looked like his emotions were going to overwhelm him. Then he took a deep breath, gratitude in his eyes. "Let's get going before Cody decides he's hungry enough to scream. That's the third time I've had to dump a can of formula since we left Spokane, and I don't want him to go hungry."

"You have an idea of where we're going?" Blair asked as he moved with Jim towards the door, taking Cody while Jim shrugged into a jacket and put on shoes, then handing the child back to his father so Blair could put on his own coat and shoes.

Jim grinned. “Yeah, I do, Darwin. It’s called the grocery store.”

“Hang on a second," Blair said, suddenly inspired. "Let me look up how we can rig up a sling to keep Cody safe, since we don't have a car seat."

"Good idea," Jim agreed as Blair quickly went into his room and looked up the information on the Internet. Memorizing the directions, he returned and proceeded to instruct Jim on how to rig up a baby sling from the sweatshirt.

“Okay, so that takes care of that," Blair pronounced. “So where is he going to sleep?”

“Food and diapers first,” Jim countered as they stepped out into the hallway and Blair locked the door. “We’ll get all the baby furniture and clothes later.”

Mentally, Blair shrugged and gave in; it did no good to argue. If Jim had managed this long without his help, then he’d clearly had time to plan what he was going to do when Blair got home. “Mind telling me what our mission is after food?”

“Yeah, finding a car seat. Social worker didn't want to give up the car seat she had him in; I had him tucked in my jacket on the way here. As good as this sling is, it's not legal.” Jim grimaced. “Which means you're driving." He handed over the keys to his truck.

Blair did a mini-victory dance; Jim hated the way Blair drove, but the truck had the advantage of no passenger seat airbag. Without asking, Blair knew Jim wasn’t going to let go of Cody again until said car seat was obtained.

“And after that?” For once, the elevator was working, and delivered them to the ground floor in record time.

“Driving you crazy not knowing whether we’re going to get any baby furniture,” Jim replied, just this shade of annoyed, and Blair felt a smile twitch the corners of his face.

It was going to be a long afternoon. Jim was going snipe at Blair because he couldn’t get mad at his son for being born; Blair was going to counter by offering up all the alternative healthcare he knew – including cloth diapers. By the time they went to sleep, they'd work out a compromise; Blair was sure of it. They'd survived far worse surprises and come out intact; they’d get through this one somehow.

Finis 12.15.2008

Comments welcome!