Fine Spirits

 

 

The black panther gracefully loped toward a special drinking pool. His mate, the grey wolf, pranced, bobbing and weaving excitedly around the panther as they traveled. The panther grinned, showing his deadly canines at the wolf’s antics. The wolf cheerfully barked as he urged his mate closer toward the pool. The panther and wolf had been together for five years before transforming their bond of the heart into a bond of the flesh as well. They were now celebrating ten years of friendship, partnership and as bondmates.

The panther slowed as he approached the pool. He reverently gazed into the crystal blue fluid, gingerly taking a small delicate taste. The bitter sweet orange flavor slightly burned his throat as he took a few more laps.

The wolf slid to a stop at the pool’s edge. He yipped and barked then practically stuck his whole snout into the pool, enthusiastically lapping up as much as he could of the blue fluid. He abruptly sat back on his haunches to savor the flavor then leapt up to drink his fill. The growl of warning issued by the panther went unheeded.

~!@#$%^&*

“Ugh, my head,” Blair began to loudly complain then quickly lowered his voice to a whisper. He had a pounding headache, his vision was blurry and his mouth felt like a platoon of soldiers had marched through it.

“I warned you not to drink so much Blue Curaçao, Chief. You’ve never had it before,” Jim said gently as he wrapped one of Blair’s hand around a glass containing the Ellison sure fire cure for hangovers.

“So you said last night,” Blair hissed, throwing a glare at his mate.

“Bottoms up, Chief,” Jim said, ignoring the dirty look Blair sent his way. Jim was too much of a gentleman to ever say “I told you so.” Instead he quietly went around their apartment closing the drapes and dimming the lights before making a strong pot of coffee to chase down the Tylenol he was about to give Blair.

“Why aren’t you hung over? You drank as much as I did,” Blair grumbled.

“I ate a full dinner and drank plenty of water,” Jim replied. “Besides, you know that spirits don’t affect me the same way they affect you.”

“Yeah, speaking about spirits,” Blair moaned as he carefully sat on their couch, holding his head. Jim came over with the coffee and tablets. “Did I see our spirit animals last night or was that the liquor?”

“Yes, you saw them, Sandburg. Matter of fact, they’re still with us,” Jim said as he glanced toward the balcony. The wolf was splayed out on the floor in front of the balcony door with his tongue hanging out and eyes shut tight. The panther was laying close by offering support while standing guard.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Blair groaned, unwilling to open his eyes or turn his head to look as he took the proffered tablets and sipped his coffee. “Did I at least have a good time last night?”

“Yes, you did,” Jim said with a chuckle. “We both did.”

“Thank you,” Blair mumbled as he gestured with his mug.

“Anytime, Chief,” Jim said, punctuating his statement with a gentle kiss to the top of Blair’s head. “I love you, Blair,” Jim whispered into the curly hair. Blair smiled which quickly turned into a grimace of pain.

“Go back to sleep, Sandburg. We’re on vacation. We have nowhere to go and nothing pressing to do for the next two weeks. Plenty of time to celebrate our anniversary,” Jim assured his mate with a beatific smile.

“I love you too, Jim,” Blair mumbled as he settled himself on the couch, sinking his head into a soft pillow. He was asleep in minutes, warm and snug as Jim tucked an afghan around him.

Jim poured himself a mug of coffee, retrieved his latest murder mystery from his bedside table then settled himself in the easy chair across from the sofa to wait out Blair’s hangover.

As Blair and the wolf began to snore, Jim glanced once more at his spirit animal, the black panther. A set of ice blue eyes which mirrored his own, met his gaze. Jim toasted the panther with his mug. The panther purred softly as he curled himself around the wolf.

The spirits were happy.

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