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"Sugar... butter... brown sugar..." Michelle Futterman tapped a pen on the list as she read it aloud.
"Sugar, butter? That doesn't sound like you." Blair Sandburg entered the office of the Jewish Studies Professor.
Michelle feigned irritation. "Don't you ever knock?"
The grad student perched on the corner of her desk. "Quite frankly... No."
"You'll have to try it sometime."
Blair reached for the paper she was holding. "What's with the junk food list?"
"I'm baking," she said snatching it from him.
"I repeat, what's with the junk food list? I mean your infamous for your refined sugar free recipes."
Michelle rubbed a hand over her eyes. "If you must know. I'm baking something for Jim. He's been such a good sport about all those sugar free, vegan creations I thought I'd bake something he'd really like." She paused then added. "For his birthday."
Blair was lost in amusement. "Good sport. Hardly. He complained through every bite. In fact, I think he had his taste shut completely off."
"Are you here for any reason in particular?"
Blair bounced to his feet. "Reason. Yeah, right. Were you going to see the exhibit with that old Torah from the holocaust?"
"Yeeees." She could easily guess where this was leading.
Blair clapped his hands together. "Great!" There was a pause. "Can you give me a lift?..."
Michelle threw her hand up. "No. Wait. That's Jim's birthday..."
"I know," he interrupted. "See I got him this movie he's wanted and I figured we could leave him alone to watch it." When the prof rolled her eyes Blair added, "You can drop off the whatever it is you're baking. We can go to the exhibit and then come back and take him out to dinner." He was already heading for the door saying, "He'd prefer it that way. See ya!"
Michelle just shook her head.
Jim's birthday.
"Thanks, Chief." Jim's eyes lit up. "I've been wanting this movie."
"And," Michelle added presenting him with a decorative tin. "I made you something to eat while you're watching it."
Jim's left eyebrow went up. "Yeah, right," he joked. He had taken the precaution of turning down his sense of smell when he saw his friend approach with the baked goods. Skeptically, he lifted the lid on the tin. Surprised he said, "Hey, these look real!"
Blair laughed as Michelle rolled her eyes. "They are. And don't fress on them. Blair and I are taking you to dinner tonight."
"Right." Jim was still internally debating whether her gift was something he would consider food.
Blair looped an arm around Jim's shoulders. "We'd better get going. Enjoy the movie. Happy birthday." He punctuated the sentiment with a kiss to Jim's cheek, his arm slipping away.
"From me too," Michelle told him placing a quick kiss on his mouth.
And she and Sandburg were out the door.
Jim smiled to himself. A new movie, some possibly edible treats and solitude to enjoy them. Not a bad birthday. Carefully, he set the cookie tin on the table and fumbled with the shrink wrap on the video. Achieving success he slid the cassette into the VCR, grabbed the remote and sank into the comfort of the sofa, taking the tin with him.
As the credits rolled Jim slowly dialed up his sense of smell. Butterscotch. Maybe this was food after all. Jim snagged one of the squares and bit. Bliss! Brown sugar (lots of it), butter, soft and gooey. All the things that made food worth eating. Now if he could just get her to cook like this all the time.
Two and a Half Hours Later...
"I'm telling you from an anthropological standpoint that exhibit was amazing!"
"That may be. But one can't ignore the religious connotations."
The two scholars argued amicably as they emerged from the elevator and made their way down the hall to #307.
"Let's just say it demonstrates how a people can endure after thousands of years..." She continued her litany while Blair produced a key and let them into the loft.
"Hey, Jim, we're..." Blair stopped mid sentence. The detective was curled up on his side on the sofa, sound asleep, a contented look on his face and an empty cookie tin in his arms. The young man approached his friend and shook gently. "Jim," he implored quietly. "Jim?" No response.
Blair eased the container from his partner's grasp. "He ate 'em all."
Michelle took the can from Blair. "No wonder he's out like that. Looks like dinner's off too."
Blair glanced to Jim and back to Michelle. "I'd say so. I'll call and order Chinese."
Two hours later Jim was still in sugarland. His untouched carry out dinner was being stowed in the refrigerator.
Michelle stroked Jim's forehead. "I guess I'm outta here," she told Blair. He walked her to the door. "Take care of him."
Blair nodded. "I always do. See you tomorrow." He waited until she was down the hall to close the door. Sighing he moved to the couch. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked the sleeping form of his roommate. "Guess the same as always." He snagged the afghan from the back of the sofa and tenderly draped it over the sentinel. Leaning over he pressed his lips gently to Jim's temple. "Happy Birthday, Big Guy, Sweet Dreams."
The End