"What do you think, Chief?"

I think you have the best ass in this hemisphere. I think I'm the luckiest man in the world because that ass belongs to me. I think if we weren't in a mall and would frighten small children and Baptists, I would reassure myself that that ass was mine.

"Chief?" Jim sighed and snapped his fingers to get his lover's attention. "Which shoes? The pumps or the ankle straps?" He pointed to his feet secure in each version.

"Uh...." Blair knew he was on uncertain territory, but Jim would know if he lied. "The ankle straps...they sorta make your ankles look fat, big guy."

"Fat? You think my ankles are fat?" Jim said accusingly.

"That's not what I said, love. I said the ankle straps made them ap--"

"What else about me you think is fat? You think I should diet? Is that what you're always feeding me those rabbit meals and warning me away from Wonder Burger? You think I'm fat, don't you?" Jim wailed.

Blair sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "I didn't say you're fat. You're perfect, okay? Get the ankle straps if you want them."

"So now you're humoring me, right? Pitying the poor, fat cop?"

"Jim, you are honestly one of the fittest people I know. I love your body. You know I do."

"You're not just saying that?" he sniffed.

"I can't lie to you, babe. You know that."

Jim nodded. "I do know that, Chief. I--" He stopped, cocking his head to one side in classic Sentinel hearing style.

"What is it?" Blair asked quickly.

"Stay here." He kicked off the shoes and went racing out of the store.

Ten feet away, he tackled two youths who were also running. One got up and started to kick Jim so the other could get free. The detective grabbed the foot and twisted it, not only bringing the kid down, but making sure he couldn't run again. Mall security finally caught up with the shoplifters and hauled them off in nylon restraints. Jim got up and padded back to the shoe store where Blair stood in the doorway, grinning absurdly at him.

"What?" he asked self-consciously.

"I love watching you in action."



"Wanna take this party somewhere more private?"

"You know it. And, Jim, buy both pairs of shoes. I want to see you do that 'kicking' off thing again."

"Even if I do have fat ankles?"

Blair grabbed the boxes of shoes. "What can I do to make you forgive me for that remark? How about I paint your toenails, huh?"

"You get off on that more than I do."

"Feed you dinner? Peel you a grape?"


He whispered something only a Sentinel could hear as Jim paid for the shoes. "I think that might just do it, Chief. But you'll have to wear the shoes."

"Even the ankle straps if I have to," Blair vowed.

Jim grabbed his bag and threw an arm around his partner. "You spoil me, babe."

"Love you. Always."

"And you'll always have my heart, Chief. Let's go home."

The End