Disclaimer: The characters and the concepts of the Sentinel do not belong to me. I'm just
playing with them.
--------
Insomnia
by M.
--------
'Great. Just great.' Jim Ellison thought grumpily, staring at the ceiling. 'I
can't sleep.'
He groaned and rolled over, causing the mattress to squeak in protest at the
movement.
Against the silence of the loft, the noise was nearly deafening to Jim's
sensitive ears.
Shifting again, Ellison bunched up his pillow under his head. He could
practically hear the lecture Blair would give him if he'd seen the action. Any
complaints due to a stiff neck would be met with Sandburg's patented 'I told you
so look'.
Sandburg.
Jim's hearing automatically sought out the younger man's heartbeat and breathing
just in case.
Blair's heartbeat was steady and strong. Likewise his breathing was deep and
even. He was sound asleep. For once. No keys pecking.
Jim smiled wryly as a small snore rumbled out of the anthropologist.
'Naw, Chief,' he thought in amusement. 'You don't snore.'
He and Blair had a longstanding argument. Blair adamantly denying he snored
while Jim knew full well he did.
A louder snore interrupted his musings and Jim forced down a snort of laughter.
The Sentinel eased out of his bed and crept down the metal stairs. It was a warm
night (probably the reason for his insomnia), so all he wore was his shorts.
Padding silently, on bare feet, Jim eased into Blair's room and picked up the
mini-tape recorder that the younger man used for note-taking. Finding a blank
tape, he popped it into the machine and crept over to his sleeping Guide.
Gazing down at the curly-haired man for a moment Jim resisted the urge to take
one of those curls in hand and tickle his friend's nose with it. As tempting as
that was, Blair would kill him.
Nope. He'd have to content himself with evidence gathering. Hitting the record
button he held the tape-recorder under his friend's nose and waited patiently.
Blair did not disappoint.
The younger man let loose a snore so loud Jim could've sworn the walls moved in
and out with Blair's breathing.
Jim smothered a chuckle. Blair would have some serious explaining away to do
when he played the tape at breakfast.
He waited a few more moments, as Blair snored his little heart out, then crept
back to the door.
Blair mumbled something unintelligible and tossed an arm across his forehead.
Jim shook his head. The younger man was obviously too warm. Taking pity on him,
he set the recorder down and went over removing two of the cover blankets and
leaving his Guide with a light sheet.
Miraculously, Blair didn't wake. Instead he rolled over slightly. Jim looked
around and spotted a elastic band. Picking it up he gathered Blair's hair away
from his neck and pulled it into a loose ponytail. It wasn't fancy, just
something to take the thick hair off Blair's neck.
His task completed Jim stepped back and smiled in satisfaction. The kid really
didn't his mothering but then, he wouldn't admit to being mothering anyway. But
for some reason Blair brought it out in him.
Maybe it was the Sentinel thing. He couldn't deny there was a deep seated need
in him to make sure Blair was safe. But safe didn't extend to making sure his
cell phone was charged at all times -- just in case his car had a flat. Safe
didn't mean making sure all the food in the fridge was fresh -- didn't want
Blair getting food poisoning. Safe didn't meaning running background checks on
the girls he dated -- to make sure they weren't psycho killers. Well maybe it
did on the last one.
But when did being a Sentinel mean he was also a mother hen when it came to a
certain short, curly-haired, fast-talking, hyperactive, anthropologist with a
knack for getting himself into life threatening situations?
Jim sighed softly and padded out into the living room.
When had he gone from tough-as-nails, ready-for-anything, ex-Army Ranger to big,
walking worry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat marshmallow? Well, at least when it came to
Blair anyway.
When he thought about it, it wasn't something he could really nail down.
Somewhere along the line, Blair Sandburg had gone to work and changed Jim
Ellison from a hard-ass pain in the ass to a guy you actually wanted around. A
guy he actually liked.
Jim shuddered when he thought about where he'd been heading before Sandburg had
come along.
It wasn't a place he wanted to think too much about. But it was a place that was
filled with bitterness and unhappiness. A place of immense loneliness.
Sighing again, he forced his thoughts away from what ifs. And thankfully that
was all they were. What ifs.
Sitting down on the couch, Jim rested his head back against it as his mind
drifted through the events of the previous four years. It still amazed him, how
quickly Blair had managed to become an integral part of his life. Overnight
Blair had gone from being his shadow to being his partner. An equal.
And not just to him. But to Simon and the others. They'd gone from viewing him
as little more than a tag-a-long to viewing him as an intelligent 'member' of
the department.
More and more, the other detectives had begun showing up at his desk a file in
their hands, wanting to talk to Sandburg instead of him.
Blair had very quickly developed into a fresh set of eyes. The guy who they went
to for a new perspective on evidence. Not because he was a cop but because he
had an uncanny ability to look at a crime scene and spot something out of place.
He had always shrugged and dismissed it as 'being part of what makes an
anthropologist'. But Jim knew differently. It may have been part of it but he
knew that the major contributor to Blair's talent was his own unique view of
life.
The majority of the cops in Major Crime, even the greenest rookie, were just a
little cynical when it came to viewing crime scenes and even witnesses. It came
from seeing one to many violent events. And coupled with the natural hardness of
life, it made them slightly jaded about things.
Blair had somehow managed, despite all his dealings with life and the hardships
that came with, to maintain a frank and honest, if not slightly boyish, outlook
at life. He genuinely believed people when they said something to him. Trusted
them to tell the truth. And often, because of that, they did tell him the truth.
It was a quality Jim envied him. A quality Jim hoped the younger man would never
loose.
He smiled wryly. If Blair could hear the thoughts going through his head...
Standing he snagged his 'evidence' and crept back up the stairs.
-------
The next morning Jim was awakened by the sound of Blair creeping around the
kitchen. The Sentinel smothered a groan and looked at the clock.
6:50.
'Great.' he thought. 'I slept in. ' He stretched and sat up. "Mornin' Chief." He
said, grumpily.
"Morning Jim!" Blair responded, brightly. "Sleep well?"
"No." He responded, standing and pulling out some clothes. "Too warm." He
called down. "You?"
"Like a baby." Was Blair's response.
He couldn't help but snicker. "Yeah," He mumbled. "A very loud baby."
"You say something Jim?"
"Nope." Retrieving the mini-recorder he walked down the stairs and heading for
the bathroom. "I'm gonna get a shower." He informed his Guide before pointing
a stern finger at the younger man. "Don't turn on the faucet."
Blair looked back at him, blue eyes innocent. "Would I do that to you?" He
asked.
"In a heartbeat." Jim said bemused before disappearing into the bathroom,
Sandburg's laughter following him.
Ten minutes later he walked out of the bathroom still wincing from his morning
shave.
Glancing over at the table he found his breakfast waiting. "What's this? Be nice
to your Sentinel morning?" He joked, sitting down at the table.
"Nope. This is 'don't want Simon yelling at us for being late morning'." Blair
responded cheerily. "Since you decided to play Rip Van Winkle and sleep in."
"Well I wouldn't have slept in if you weren't snoring last night." Jim teased.
"I do not snore." Blair said patiently.
"Yes you do." He answered, equally as patient.
"Do not." Blair countered.
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do not."
"Do too."
Blair groaned as Jim grinned.
"Gotcha Chief." The Sentinel announced triumphantly.
"That was so childish man." Blair responded, carrying his plate to the sink and
rinsing it off. "And I do not snore!"
"That's not what the tape says."
"Tape?" Blair looked suspicious. "What tape?"
Jim put down his fork and retrieved the small machine from his shirt pocket.
"The tape in this recorder."
"Gimme that." Blair lunged for the tape but Jim slid from his seat and held the
machine in the air. Just out of the other man's reach.
"Na ah, Sandburg." He teased. "This is evidence."
"Evidence?" Blair folded his arms across his chest and looked skeptically at the
other man. "What kind of evidence?"
"Evidence that you...Blair Sandburg...Snore." Jim stated solemnly.
"I DO NOT SNORE!" Blair responded emphatically.
He grinned. "Oh yes you do." Then he pressed play.
The sound, that was unmistakably Blair Sandburg, of snoring filled the loft.
The curly-haired man stepped back and looked sheepish.
"You were saying Chief?" Jim asked loftily.
"Umm..." Blair trailed off.
"Yeah." Jim nodded. "Now that we've settled the snoring issue there's another
one to deal with."
"And that is?" Blair asked with a distinct feeling of dread.
His grin was pure evil. "What you're willing to do to make sure this tape
doesn't end up in Simon Banks hands."
"Awww Jimmmmmmm!!!!!!!"
playing with them.
--------
Insomnia
by M.
--------
'Great. Just great.' Jim Ellison thought grumpily, staring at the ceiling. 'I
can't sleep.'
He groaned and rolled over, causing the mattress to squeak in protest at the
movement.
Against the silence of the loft, the noise was nearly deafening to Jim's
sensitive ears.
Shifting again, Ellison bunched up his pillow under his head. He could
practically hear the lecture Blair would give him if he'd seen the action. Any
complaints due to a stiff neck would be met with Sandburg's patented 'I told you
so look'.
Sandburg.
Jim's hearing automatically sought out the younger man's heartbeat and breathing
just in case.
Blair's heartbeat was steady and strong. Likewise his breathing was deep and
even. He was sound asleep. For once. No keys pecking.
Jim smiled wryly as a small snore rumbled out of the anthropologist.
'Naw, Chief,' he thought in amusement. 'You don't snore.'
He and Blair had a longstanding argument. Blair adamantly denying he snored
while Jim knew full well he did.
A louder snore interrupted his musings and Jim forced down a snort of laughter.
The Sentinel eased out of his bed and crept down the metal stairs. It was a warm
night (probably the reason for his insomnia), so all he wore was his shorts.
Padding silently, on bare feet, Jim eased into Blair's room and picked up the
mini-tape recorder that the younger man used for note-taking. Finding a blank
tape, he popped it into the machine and crept over to his sleeping Guide.
Gazing down at the curly-haired man for a moment Jim resisted the urge to take
one of those curls in hand and tickle his friend's nose with it. As tempting as
that was, Blair would kill him.
Nope. He'd have to content himself with evidence gathering. Hitting the record
button he held the tape-recorder under his friend's nose and waited patiently.
Blair did not disappoint.
The younger man let loose a snore so loud Jim could've sworn the walls moved in
and out with Blair's breathing.
Jim smothered a chuckle. Blair would have some serious explaining away to do
when he played the tape at breakfast.
He waited a few more moments, as Blair snored his little heart out, then crept
back to the door.
Blair mumbled something unintelligible and tossed an arm across his forehead.
Jim shook his head. The younger man was obviously too warm. Taking pity on him,
he set the recorder down and went over removing two of the cover blankets and
leaving his Guide with a light sheet.
Miraculously, Blair didn't wake. Instead he rolled over slightly. Jim looked
around and spotted a elastic band. Picking it up he gathered Blair's hair away
from his neck and pulled it into a loose ponytail. It wasn't fancy, just
something to take the thick hair off Blair's neck.
His task completed Jim stepped back and smiled in satisfaction. The kid really
didn't his mothering but then, he wouldn't admit to being mothering anyway. But
for some reason Blair brought it out in him.
Maybe it was the Sentinel thing. He couldn't deny there was a deep seated need
in him to make sure Blair was safe. But safe didn't extend to making sure his
cell phone was charged at all times -- just in case his car had a flat. Safe
didn't mean making sure all the food in the fridge was fresh -- didn't want
Blair getting food poisoning. Safe didn't meaning running background checks on
the girls he dated -- to make sure they weren't psycho killers. Well maybe it
did on the last one.
But when did being a Sentinel mean he was also a mother hen when it came to a
certain short, curly-haired, fast-talking, hyperactive, anthropologist with a
knack for getting himself into life threatening situations?
Jim sighed softly and padded out into the living room.
When had he gone from tough-as-nails, ready-for-anything, ex-Army Ranger to big,
walking worry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat marshmallow? Well, at least when it came to
Blair anyway.
When he thought about it, it wasn't something he could really nail down.
Somewhere along the line, Blair Sandburg had gone to work and changed Jim
Ellison from a hard-ass pain in the ass to a guy you actually wanted around. A
guy he actually liked.
Jim shuddered when he thought about where he'd been heading before Sandburg had
come along.
It wasn't a place he wanted to think too much about. But it was a place that was
filled with bitterness and unhappiness. A place of immense loneliness.
Sighing again, he forced his thoughts away from what ifs. And thankfully that
was all they were. What ifs.
Sitting down on the couch, Jim rested his head back against it as his mind
drifted through the events of the previous four years. It still amazed him, how
quickly Blair had managed to become an integral part of his life. Overnight
Blair had gone from being his shadow to being his partner. An equal.
And not just to him. But to Simon and the others. They'd gone from viewing him
as little more than a tag-a-long to viewing him as an intelligent 'member' of
the department.
More and more, the other detectives had begun showing up at his desk a file in
their hands, wanting to talk to Sandburg instead of him.
Blair had very quickly developed into a fresh set of eyes. The guy who they went
to for a new perspective on evidence. Not because he was a cop but because he
had an uncanny ability to look at a crime scene and spot something out of place.
He had always shrugged and dismissed it as 'being part of what makes an
anthropologist'. But Jim knew differently. It may have been part of it but he
knew that the major contributor to Blair's talent was his own unique view of
life.
The majority of the cops in Major Crime, even the greenest rookie, were just a
little cynical when it came to viewing crime scenes and even witnesses. It came
from seeing one to many violent events. And coupled with the natural hardness of
life, it made them slightly jaded about things.
Blair had somehow managed, despite all his dealings with life and the hardships
that came with, to maintain a frank and honest, if not slightly boyish, outlook
at life. He genuinely believed people when they said something to him. Trusted
them to tell the truth. And often, because of that, they did tell him the truth.
It was a quality Jim envied him. A quality Jim hoped the younger man would never
loose.
He smiled wryly. If Blair could hear the thoughts going through his head...
Standing he snagged his 'evidence' and crept back up the stairs.
-------
The next morning Jim was awakened by the sound of Blair creeping around the
kitchen. The Sentinel smothered a groan and looked at the clock.
6:50.
'Great.' he thought. 'I slept in. ' He stretched and sat up. "Mornin' Chief." He
said, grumpily.
"Morning Jim!" Blair responded, brightly. "Sleep well?"
"No." He responded, standing and pulling out some clothes. "Too warm." He
called down. "You?"
"Like a baby." Was Blair's response.
He couldn't help but snicker. "Yeah," He mumbled. "A very loud baby."
"You say something Jim?"
"Nope." Retrieving the mini-recorder he walked down the stairs and heading for
the bathroom. "I'm gonna get a shower." He informed his Guide before pointing
a stern finger at the younger man. "Don't turn on the faucet."
Blair looked back at him, blue eyes innocent. "Would I do that to you?" He
asked.
"In a heartbeat." Jim said bemused before disappearing into the bathroom,
Sandburg's laughter following him.
Ten minutes later he walked out of the bathroom still wincing from his morning
shave.
Glancing over at the table he found his breakfast waiting. "What's this? Be nice
to your Sentinel morning?" He joked, sitting down at the table.
"Nope. This is 'don't want Simon yelling at us for being late morning'." Blair
responded cheerily. "Since you decided to play Rip Van Winkle and sleep in."
"Well I wouldn't have slept in if you weren't snoring last night." Jim teased.
"I do not snore." Blair said patiently.
"Yes you do." He answered, equally as patient.
"Do not." Blair countered.
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do not."
"Do too."
Blair groaned as Jim grinned.
"Gotcha Chief." The Sentinel announced triumphantly.
"That was so childish man." Blair responded, carrying his plate to the sink and
rinsing it off. "And I do not snore!"
"That's not what the tape says."
"Tape?" Blair looked suspicious. "What tape?"
Jim put down his fork and retrieved the small machine from his shirt pocket.
"The tape in this recorder."
"Gimme that." Blair lunged for the tape but Jim slid from his seat and held the
machine in the air. Just out of the other man's reach.
"Na ah, Sandburg." He teased. "This is evidence."
"Evidence?" Blair folded his arms across his chest and looked skeptically at the
other man. "What kind of evidence?"
"Evidence that you...Blair Sandburg...Snore." Jim stated solemnly.
"I DO NOT SNORE!" Blair responded emphatically.
He grinned. "Oh yes you do." Then he pressed play.
The sound, that was unmistakably Blair Sandburg, of snoring filled the loft.
The curly-haired man stepped back and looked sheepish.
"You were saying Chief?" Jim asked loftily.
"Umm..." Blair trailed off.
"Yeah." Jim nodded. "Now that we've settled the snoring issue there's another
one to deal with."
"And that is?" Blair asked with a distinct feeling of dread.
His grin was pure evil. "What you're willing to do to make sure this tape
doesn't end up in Simon Banks hands."
"Awww Jimmmmmmm!!!!!!!"