Chapter Sixteen
Free Day

Jim woke up with hair in his mouth anyway. He spit it out without waking up his Guide, mentally resigning himself. *If I want the bod, and the mind, and the heart, I take the hair, too. Besides...* He softly petted Blair’s loose curls, and his lover purred in his sleep. *It is sexy as hell.*

He sat up carefully, and noticed that there were only three bodies in the bed right now. Blair and Stan were still snoring in gentle two part harmony, but Benton was nowhere in sight.

Jim cocked his head, and dialed up his hearing. Well, he hardly needed to bother. The sound of the shower downstairs was pretty clear. And, as he listened, it was joined by a clear, quiet baritone voice singing “Oh, Canada.” Jim couldn’t help grinning.

He eased out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and made his way down to the kitchen. It was Saturday, he and Blair did not have to go in, and he was in the mood for a completely bad for you treat that he hadn’t had in a long, long time.

In the kitchen he half filled a deep pot with oil and let it heat, preparing a paper towel lined platter. He also located a small paper bag, put a couple of scoops of sugar in it, and added a liberal dusting of cinnamon. After a moment’s though, he added a pinch of ground cloves, too, closed the bag, and shook it to stir the mixture.

He opened the refrigerator and located two cans of biscuits. He stripped the paper off them and rapped each tube sharply on the edge of the counter, being careful to hit the line scored in a spiral up the cardboard tube. The cardboard split along the line neatly each time, and Jim extracted the pale, slightly sticky disks of biscuit dough.

He pinched a tiny glob off one, and dropped it in the shimmering grease. It sizzled, and floated almost immediately to the surface, puffing and beginning to brown. Nodding in satisfaction, he used his thumb to poke a hole in the biscuit, then stretched it out into a ring and eased it into the fat.

Like the blob before it it rose to the surface, bubbles breaking all around it, and began to puff and brown. Jim repeated the process with another biscuit, then turned the first one. By the time it was done, it was time to turn the second. He did, scooping out the first and setting it to drain. Then he quickly prepared another biscuit and eased it into the fat. He wouldn’t do more than two at a time. Otherwise the temperature of the grease might drop and the donuts would take to long to cook, getting rubbery.

He quickly picked up the still hot first donut, dropped it in the sack of flavored sugar, and gave it a brisk shake before returning it to the platter. By that time he had to remove the second donut, turn the third, and start preparing the fourth. He was very busy for awhile.

Benton, freshly scrubbed, followed the delicious, yeasty aroma into the kitchen. He paused at the entrance, watching the big Cascade policeman quickly and efficiently turning out fried pastry. He came farther into the room. “What are those, Jim? They smell fantastic.”

Jim glanced around, and did a double take. “Benny, stay right where you are. I wouldn’t advice coming anywhere near a deep fryer while you’re naked.”

“Oh, of course.” Benton took a step backward. “But what are those?”

“Just canned biscuit donuts.”

“Canned...?”

“You know, the canned kind you get in the cold section of the store? All you do is poke a hole in ‘em and fry.” He demonstrated. “See?”

“Why, that is ingenious!”

“You’re mom never made them for you?”

“My mother died when I was very young, Jim. My grandmother did not favor any sort of food that could be remotely classified as ‘junk’. She believed heartily in bran.”

Jim groaned. “Oh, Benny! You had a deprived childhood. Look, go get dressed, wouldya? You’re distracting me, and I don’t want to burn the donuts.”

Fraiser went back up to the loft in search of his clothes. When he arrived, both Blair and Stanley were sitting up, yawning sniffing. Blair groaned. “Oh, man. Jim must be in a good mood--he’s frying donuts. I’m gonna gain a ton before you guys leave. I’ll have to eat nothing but rabbit food for a week in penance.”

Stanley was off the bed, getting dressed. “Donuts, you said? Fresh donuts?”

“Like that idea, huh?”

“It will be a struggle not to just jump over the rail in order to get to them more quickly.” Stanley pattered down the stairs. A moment later they could hear loud, happy groans from the kitchen.

Benny remarked, “Ray loves donuts almost as much as Diefenbaker.”

Blair gave him a mischievous look. “How do you know that’s from food? Maybe he and Jim are getting it on again.”

“Because,” Benny smiled. “Jim would not allow him around the deep fat frier in an unclothed state.”

“Hm. Well, it’s gonna happen again before you two leave. Stanley told me Jim promised he could fuck him if he’d get shaved.”

Benny’s eyes went round. “Oh my. What a mental image.”

“Yeah.” Blair got up and started dressing. “Doesn’t happen often, but definitely an event not to be missed.”

When they got downstairs the donuts were finished, sitting in a steaming, fragrant pile, and Jim and Stanley were placidly munching away. Stanley said, “Yo, Mountie. Jim says you can make these jelly donuts if you have a pastry bag. Wouldn’t Dief...”

“Ray, I forbid you to mention this to Diefenbaker. I would never again have a moment’s peace, and he would soon approach St. Bernard size.”

Blair, who showed a remarkable capacity for junk food despite the amount of sprouts and tofu he was constantly trying to push on Jim, was already on his second donut. “Should we keep the watch on Solly today, or do you think it would be safe to leave him to hospital security?”

They all considered. Finally Benton said slowly, “Of course, Kol could not have contacted Mr. Bernie to inform him of his failure. But...”

Stanley nodded, completing his partners thought, as Jim and Blair sometimes did with each other, “We got no way of knowing if Pavel not contacting him isn’t some sort of signal in itself. I say we need to keep someone there. If the Cascade force can’t spare the manpower, we can camp out again, I guess.”

“That shouldn’t be necessary,” Jim offered. “Our PR department shouldn’t be too hard to convince that this would look good with the public. Plus the fact that we’ll get a little credit for helping with whatever Solly turns for you guys.”

“Good,” Blair continued. “Unless things go kaflooie, we have the day, cause I’d be major surprised if they’d agree to let Solly go before tomorrow, what with all he’s been through in the last 48 hours.”

“So, what do we do today?” Stan polished off a glass of milk, leaving a white rim over his upper lip. He started to wipe it on his sleeve, but Benton gently caught his arm, leaned over, and licked it away. The cleansing turned into a prolonged kiss, involving a couple of very nimble tongues. When Fraiser sat back, Stan said breathlessly, “Yeah, that’s okay with me.”

“There are no classes at the university today. I promised Benny I’d show him the anthro collection at the library.”

Stan looked a little disappointed, sighing. “Yeah, that would be cool. We should all go check on Solly first.”

As they were getting ready to go, Jim whispered to Stanley, “Don’t be so down in the mouth. I know Blair. One of his kinks is doing it in unusual places, and there are a lot of deserted rooms on campus.” Stanley perked up considerably.

A pretty, sour faced nurse was stalking out of Solly’s room when they arrived, and they could hear a dirty giggle from the room’s occupant. “Oh my,” said Benton. “Has Solly been up to mischief again?”

The nurse paused, hands on hips. “I was in the Navy. If that guy’s hands had been free, it woulda been like Tailhook in there. I’m not surprised someone tried to poison him.”

Fraiser said, “Has his doctor indicated when he might be released for transport back to Chicago?”

“Yeah. You can have the turkey tomorrow morning, any time after nine. Do us all a favor and synchronize your watches so you don’t waste a nanosecond.” She left, muttering under her breath, something about putting a bed pan in the freezer for later.

They entered, and Jim said, “Solly, what have you been doing?”

Solly, looking remarkably chipper for someone who had just come through a near death experience, grinned. “Bite me.”

Blair sighed, getting between his Sentinel and the bed. “Solly, you really don’t want to say that to Jim. Trust me on this.”

Solly shrugged, as best he could. “Aye, did I have a visitor yesterday? Dere’s a ‘Get Well’ card anna Mars bar onda nightstand. Dat bitch wudden lemme have dat candy.”

“Those were from my marshmallow hearted partner,” said Stanley. “But you did have a visitor from Chicago yesterday, Solly. You don’t remember?”

Solly frowned. “Nah. Dat wuz some pretty good shit dey gave me. If my gut din’ hurt so bad, I’d wish I had annuder ‘pendix for ‘em ta yank.”

“Mm. Well, yah see this particular little hole in your arm right here, Solly?” Stan touched the bruised place on the inside of Solly’s forearm. “That little calling card was from your other visitor.”

Solly peered at the discolored spot, puzzled. “What da hell is dat for? Somebody pinch me? Who did dat?”

"Are you familiar with the name Pavel Kol?” Fraiser asked. “Oh, my! That is the most alarming shade of green! Blair, he looks even worse than you did when Stanley talked about...”

“. Yeah, Benny. Don’t remind ‘im, huh? Last thing we need is having ‘im whoops his cookies again.”

Blair sounded indignant. “I’m not that delicate.”

Jim pinched his ass. “Oh, my little passion flower?”

Blair pushed his hand away, giving him a smouldering, but wry look, growling, “Don’t get me started, Sentinel.”

“Look,” Solly whined. “You gotta do somethin’. That motherfucker is serious business. I’m jus’ a little cheese, why da hell did Uncle Bernie send dat big ass rat after me?”

“Oh, come on, Solly,” chided Stanley. “Because he’s more scared of us and the feds than he is of your mom.”

Solly looked doubtful. “I dunno--Mom is pretty fuckin’ scary. She t’reatend ta kneecap ‘im if he kep’ screwin’ aroun’ on Aunt Betty.”

“Look, all you have to do is co-operate when you get back to Chicago. And Solly? I’d really, really consider it. ‘Cause if Kol sings like I think he will they might decide they don’t need you. Then your butt is in the pen for a loooooong time.”

Solly’s previously pale face flushed. “Dey can’t do dat! I gots a constipational right ta rat out my fam’ly.”

Jim checked his watch. “Speaking of constipation, though I almost wish I could be outside this room when the nurse brings that bed pan, we ought to get going. Consider carefully, Solly.”

As they trooped out, they passed the nurse, who was entering with a metal bedpan in hand and a wicked smile on her face.

Down at the elevator, Benton said, “You know, I am intimately acquainted with cold weather phenomena. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would swear that I saw frost on that bedpan.”

As he finished speaking, there was a sudden shriek from down the hall, and the unmistakable sound of feminine laughter. Jim, whistling and gazing at the ceiling to avoid having a major giggle fit at the look on the Mountie’s face (like Blair and Stanley), punched the ‘down’ button.