Title: Garage Door

A/N: Okay, I know that's an incredibly unoriginal title, but this is the first Sentinel story I ever wrote, ten years ago. It was a response to a challenge to take something that had happened to me in real life and turn it into a Sentinel story. I haven't changed anything since I first posted this, including the stupid title.

Disclaimer: They aren't mine...

The sun had barely begun to peek above the trees when Blair awoke. Stretching languorously, he rolled over in bed and yawned. Opening bleary eyes, his unfamiliar surroundings briefly disoriented him.

"Sandburg,...you up?" The voice came from downstairs, further confusing Blair in his sleepy state. Since when did he sleep upstairs? "Sandburg! The trail's not getting any easier!"

Suddenly snapping to attention, Sandburg sat up, dragging a hand through unruly mahogany curls. Drawing in a deep breath, he sniffed appreciatively at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee emanating from below.

"Yeah, Jim. I'm up." He spoke in a normal conversational tone, knowing from experience that his partner was probably standing at the foot of the stairs monitoring Blair's vital signs to detect if he were still asleep. He didn't want to speak too loudly while Jim had his hearing extended.

Slowly climbing off the bed, Blair headed toward his duffel sitting on a chair in the corner. After a long weekend of house-sitting for a vacationing archeology professor, today was their last day. He and Jim had decided to spend the morning following a bike trail they had found behind the house, one of the many perks of spending the weekend in the mountains outside Cascade.

Grabbing his last set of clean clothes, he headed for the shower, grateful for the unlimited supply of hot water. Finally, dressed and more alert, he headed down the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, Detective Jim Ellison stood waiting for him, a cup of steaming coffee in hand. "Here ya go, Chief."

"Thanks, Jim." Blair took a big gulp of the fragrant liquid and headed toward the door. "Ok, Big Guy, I'm ready."

"It's about time." Ellison ruffled his partner's hair, chuckling. "I was about to head out without you. The bikes are in the garage." He led the way through the house to a door in the middle of the lower hallway. "After you."

"Real funny." Sandburg made a face as he headed down the stairs into an overcrowded garage. Bicycles, sleds and garden tools were strewn haphazardly around the room. *No room for a car in here.* Picking his way through the jumbled items on the cement floor, he headed for the bikes lined up in the corner in front of the door.

He grabbed one of the mountain bikes and turned to look at the door. "Wow, I haven't seen one of these babies in a long time."

"One of what babies?" Jim looked up, ice blue eyes questioning as he appropriated the other bike.

"One of these old-fashioned garage doors." Blair studied the door with interest. The door was a thick wooden one, made of three panels. When the door was opened, the panels would fold in on themselves, sliding up into the ceiling. Setting the kickstand on his bike, he twisted the metal handle and pulled upward. "It's a heavy one, too." He grinned as he looked back at Jim. "After you."

Ellison smiled back, cuffing his partner lightly on the back of his head as he passed him. Blair followed him outside, taking a deep breath of the mountain air. "I love the air up here. It just smells so clean." He paused as a sudden thought hit him, then his deep blue eyes lit up. "Wow, Jim. What does it smell like for you? With your enhanced sense of smell, how much of a difference can you sense from the city air? What can you smell?"

Ellison grimaced. "I knew this wouldn't last. No tests, Chief. We are enjoying a weekend away from everything, and that includes the tests, too."

"Aw, c'mon!" The smaller man turned to close the garage door, reaching up to snag the bottom and tug. "What is it going to hurt for you to try to separate a few scents?" As the door began to drop, he reached up higher, absently glancing back at it before returning his attention to his partner. "Just one or two would..."

"Chief, stop!" Ellison interrupted urgently, his eyes riveted to the door in horror.

Blair noticed a strange sensation in his hand about the same time as the door finished its downward glide and snapped into place. Following Jim's gaze, he felt nausea suddenly churn in his stomach. The door was completely closed, all three panels perfectly in line. Looking completely out of place, Blair's hand was caught in between the two upper panels. While closing the door, he had reached up blindly and pulled, unknowingly missing the handle and any ornamental edges, instead slipping his fingers into the opening between the panels.

"Get it open!" he begged hoarsely, desperately fighting the urge to pull his trapped hand away from the door. Fortunately, only the middle finger on his right hand had been caught, but he was getting queasy just seeing it flattened in the narrow crevice. "Come on, Jim. Do something!" And then the strange numb feeling dissipated, allowing the pain to break through.

"Ok, just take it easy." Ellison quickly reached down to grasp the door and pull it back up. He grunted as he strained against it. "It's locked! Hang on, Buddy. I'm going to have to go in and unlock it from inside. Hold on, I'll be as fast as I can!"

As Jim loped toward the back door, Blair struggled to contain a moan. The longer he looked at his finger, the worse the pain became. He didn't know how much longer he could stand here, stuck to the door. He listened with relief as Jim's footsteps thundered down the steps into the cluttered garage. Heart pounding, he leaned his head briefly against his arm. This was not even close to be being the worst he had ever been hurt, but it was most definitely the dumbest way he had ever been hurt.

"Ok, Chief, I'm going to unlock the door and open it slowly. Pull your hand out as soon as it's free. Got it?"

"Yeah! Go ahead!" Sandburg broke out in a cold sweat as reaction set in. He just wished Jim would hurry. Then the door began to slowly move, and he wished it would stop. As the door released his hand, the pain flared to a new level. He groaned and pulled his abused finger free. "Ok, I'm out!"

Jim continued to open the door, quickly stepping outside. "Let me see." He gently grasped his partner's hand, critically studying the wounded finger. "I don't think it's broken, but its sure going to hurt!"

Blair stared down at his hand in shock. The injured finger was completely flat from the middle all the way to the tip. The skin was scraped and torn, and a deep blue tinge was rising beneath the skin. His finger was already beginning to swell.

"Ok, Buddy, let's get you inside." Jim carefully took Blair's arm, leading him back through the garage and up the stairs into the house. "We need to get some ice on that as soon as possible, and you're not looking too good."

Settling his partner in a comfortable easy chair in the living room, Jim headed to the kitchen. Blair closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. He was starting to wonder if he would pass out or empty his stomach on the floor. Who would have thought a little thing like a finger injury could cause his body to react so severely?

"Ok. Here we go." Blair's eyes flew open to find Jim kneeling in front of him, gingerly reaching for his hand. "This might hurt a little...."

Blair tensed. When Jim said it would hurt a little, usually it ended up hurting a lot. As the ice touched his swollen finger, he jumped. Yup, it hurt a lot. He tried to pull away, but Jim kept a firm grip on his arm. As
the ice continued to lie against his skin, Blair relaxed as his hand went numb. "Man, Jim. That really hurt!"

Jim pulled the injury back under the light and studied it carefully, running his fingers lightly over it. "You're going to be just fine. It's not broken, and I don't think you really damaged anything." He smiled mischievously. "'Course, you might have a flat finger for a while."

"Ha ha, very funny." Sandburg punched him lightly with his left hand.

"Ya know, Sandburg, if you didn't want to go biking, there ARE easier ways to let me know. Like just telling me, for instance."

"Yeah, everybody thinks they're a comedian."

"I do have to hand it to you, though." Ellison's eyes danced as he fought to keep a straight face. "Leave it to you to find a way to hurt yourself before we even left the house!"

Finis