Drabbles
The Joke.
Jim
entered the bullpen searching for his Guide.
"Where
is he?" He demanded of Brown who
wandered past.
"Who?"
"That
little sneak.. You!" Jim pointed to the culprit. "Come here, you little brat."
"Ahhh! Jim!"
With a neat little hop, skip and jump Blair took off the other direction
with a furious Sentinel hard on his heels.
"Yeah
you run, Sandburg. I know where you
live! No one borrows my truck, does
that and lives."
Laughter
followed the pair as they raced through the corridors.
In
the parking lot sat a blue and white pickup, covered in thick, black mud.
Blair grumbled as he aimed the spray at the
soap covered truck. He knew that he'd
messed the truck by taking it through the back fields of Julie's place but he
couldn't resist the mud puddles big enough to swim in.
He grinned at the look on Jim's face when he
saw the mess. The grin quickly turned
became a frown at the punishment meted out by Jim.
It wasn't fair that he had to clean the
truck and loft.
His grumbling stopped as Jim came out from
the lobby of their building.
The grin returned.
The hose aimed.
"SANDBURG!!!!!!!!!!"
Jim grinned from the balcony as he watched
his young trouble-making friend grumbling at his punishment. He deserved it for what he'd done.
That truck was a classic. His 'Sweetheart'. To mess with it was to
mess with Jim.
He could faintly here the grumbling but
couldn't make out the words. With a resolved
smile he made his way downstairs to help Blair out.
He pushed open the door, not seeing the
maleficent grin the transformed his roommate's face. He didn't notice the redirection of the hose, or the steady
stream of water until it hit him dead on.
"SANDBURG!!!!!!!!!!"
Blair
glanced nervously at his roommate on the loveseat opposite him. He was engrossed in the program on TV but
Blair couldn't help wondering what form of revenge Jim was plotting.
After
their impromptu waterfight, Blair expected some sort of comeback. Instead, Jim
offered him the first shower, made dinner and had not said anything, at all.
This
meant he was planning something big.
With
a resigned sigh, Blair rose. "I'm
heading for bed, Jim. I'll see you in the morning."
"Sleep
well, Chief."
Blair
got ready for bed and slipped between the cool sheets. Sort of.
What
the....
"ELLISON?????"
Muddy Trucks and Short Sheets
"This
is childish. Even for you." Blair grouched, turning back the covers,
revealing folded sheets. "This is
something you do at camp. What, making
me wash the truck wasn't enough. Had to
go one further."
Jim
couldn't help grinning as he listened to his roommate fixing his sheets. He
hadn't shortsheeted anyone since Stevie.
He didn't feel guilty. Considering, he's the one Blair'd soaked and HIS
truck covered in mud.
He
knew Blair enjoyed this childish behavior as a release from regular daily
stress. He tuned back as Blair climbed
into the remade bed.
"I'm
gonna get you, my pretty!"
"Hey
Chief, Smells good in here," Jim called as he opened the front door to the
loft. The delectable scents from their kitchen had been teasing him since he'd
climbed out of his nice clean truck outside.
They had tantalized his nose, drawing him upwards, promising something
wonderful for dinner.
Blair
came out from his room under the loft and smiled in greeting. "Hey Jim.
Dinner's almost ready. How was your day? Sorry I didn't make it but… well I
thought this might make up for it."
"Sure
does if that is what I think it is."
"Lasagna
and yes, there is meat in it. With a whipped Lemon pie for dessert. Go have a
shower first.
"Sounds
great Chief."
Blair
watched Jim head upstairs to grab a change of clothes before heading to the
bathroom. A few minutes later Jim was showered changed and they ate the meal
Blair had painstakingly slaved over. The pie was tart and sweet, just as Jim
loved. The whipped topping was obviously not artificial but made with sweet
jersey cream that Blair purchased at the specialty store two blocks over.
Vaguely
he wondered what he'd done to deserve this kind of treatment. He was still
waiting for retaliation for the short sheeting he'd given Blair a week
earlier. Something would give and soon,
he just knew it.
But
the evening continued peacefully. And by ten o'clock he'd forgotten all about
it and they retired, Jim to sleep and Blair to his room to work a few more
hours on his grading.
An
hour later, Blair flipped the switch on the portable white noise generator. He
stifled the need to giggle insanely. This was the best one yet, he thought.
He
crept slowly up the steps, a large mixing bowl in his hands. Jim lay on his back; his right hand flung to
one side the other tucked under his head.
'Perfect.'
Slowly
and carefully, Blair spooned dollops of the rich whipped cream he'd made
earlier on Jim's right hand. Nary a twitch.
So much for sentinel senses when you trust your guide this much, Blair
said silently to himself. When he
finished he placed the bowl on the floor out of the way and pulled a long
slender feather from his back pocket.
He
lightly ran it across the bridge of Jim's nose. A twitch again but nothing
else. He turned the feather slightly
to drag the tip across the upper lip and across Jim's cheeks. A larger twitch.
He
lightened his stroke but kept going. His eyes tuned to Jim's hand. When he saw
it move, he stroked once more, then stepped back, just as Jim's hand reached
out to slap his face. Whipped cream splattered everywhere. Jim woke with a yell
but Blair was already halfway down the stairs.
"SANDBURG!"
Jim bellowed. Only giggles answered as Blair slammed his door closed. "I am going to get you, don't you sleep,
Sandburg, I will get you when you least expect it."
Jim
rose to clean up even as he laughed himself.
The last of the tension he'd had over the week finally dissipated,
leaving him feeling more relaxed and better than he had in a long while. Even
with whipped cream all over his face and in his bed.
"Tell
me you didn't?" Simon snorted a laugh.
"I take it he hasn't found your little joke yet?"
"Not
yet, but soon, I suspect. Things have
been tough around here lately for all of us. I guess this has helped release a
little tension, but damn if I don't feel 10 years old again." Jim grinned.
"Yeah,
you hate it too, right?" Simon nodded, amused. The infectious attitude
between his best detective and their police observer had translated over to the
rest of the crew and while they had yet to join into the little practical
jokes, the tension that had been building in the bullpen after weeks of
difficult cases had in fact eased, alot.
"Hey
Jim," Brown poked his nose into Simon's open office door. "You might want to hide. I think Hairboy
found your little surprise on the flagpole outside. I don't think he's amused
either, Bro."
At
that same moment, Blair entered the bullpen, carrying a handful of brightly
coloured boxers and briefs.
"Ellison!"
he called, fist waving. "You are like SO dead!"
Ellison
took off, followed by the laughter of all the guys in the bullpen and one voice
above the others promising dire retribution.
"This
has been going on for weeks, you say?" Rhonda asked. She'd just returned
from a month-long European honeymoon with her new husband.
"Yeah.
It started with Blair borrowing Jim's truck to go puddle jumping," Rafe
started, laughingly.
"And
conveniently forgetting to wash it before Jim found out," H added.
"When washing the truck, Blair hosed Jim down good…"
"So
Ellison short-sheeted the kid's bed."
"What'd
Blair do?" Rhonda couldn't help
asking, her body shook with laughter.
"Blair
got him with a whipped-cream pie in the hand and feather to the face
trick."
"They're
acting like kids at camp." Rhonda chortled, gleefully.
"Yeah,
then Jim got Blair back by hangin' his underwear from the flagpole." H
snickered at the image of Blair, his underwear in hand and Ellison taking off
out the backdoor of Simon's office. He shared and they all laughed, ignoring
the strange glances from others in the breakroom.
"It's
been good, though. Couple'a tough cases had everyone a little strung out until
this started. Kinda makes me wonder if Blair did this intentionally,
ya'know." Brown said, reflectively.
"Well
even if he didn't it's been good." They all agreed wholeheartedly,
wondering if they too couldn't join the fun.
H
heard the soft snigger and risked a sharp glance at his partner. Rafe grinned
and nodded before hiding his face back in the paperwork littering his desk. H
shook his head but he couldn't quite keep the grin off his own face.
Blair
had skipped out of the bullpen, headed for the bathroom a few minutes earlier
but there hadn't been a peep yet so neither Brown nor Rafe was sure whether
their practical joke had been found yet or not. A soft rustling sound brought H's attention up to see his boss
leaving the bullpen. He didn't think
anything much of it and returned to work.
A stifled gasp from across the desk brought his head up and a muffled
thump, a gasp and a tiny 'oh shit' sent chills down his back.
"Okay,
who the hell thought this one up?" asked an angry and thoroughly soaked
Captain Banks from the doorway. Behind
him stood a completely dry and totally baffled Blair Sandburg, holding up his
hands in complete denial and backing away. Brown rose and grabbed a file,
seconds later Rafe followed, both men hoping to escape the notice of their
captain.
"Oh,
boys… "
Oops,
busted!
It
was early, the sun barely risen. The bullpen was empty. Of course as Captain, when he sent people on
errands they usually did them. Unless your name was Blair Sandburg, then count
on getting sidetracked by a pretty face. Simon grinned at that thought but
continued with his plans. In one hand
he carried a small paper bag.
He
made his way quickly to Brown and Rafe's desks. He worked for several minutes.
Cackling to himself, he returned to his office.
For
a brief second he felt annoyed with himself that he could stoop so low as to
join ranks with his men and pull practical jokes, but he had to admit there was
something freeing about playing these juvenial pranks. And in the last week,
things had taken an ugly turn yet again. Besides it was all harmless fun,
really. Simon sat back, waiting for the show to start.
Brown
and Rafe returned from booking. After
several minutes, H pulled his top drawer open.
Suddenly,
three long, brown 'things' flew up at his face.
"Yahhhhh!"
H jumped back, falling flat on his backside.
Simon howled as the rubber snakes fell across Brown as he scrambled to
get away.