Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel
Carole
"Come on, Chief," Jim called across the loft. "Let's go!"
Blair stuffed the last bite of his bagel into his mouth and bent down to tie the laces of his hiking boots. "Where are we going?"
"Out," Jim answered, grabbing both jackets off the hooks by the door.
"What do you mean 'out'? Are we going on a stakeout?"
"Nope." Jim reached into the basket by the door for his keys.
"Meeting a snitch?"
"Nope."
"Did Simon call us into the station?"
"Nope." Jim grinned as he pulled the door closed behind them.
"Then where?" Blair asked, as the two men headed down the stairs.
"To my truck."
"Come on, Jim! Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Jim answered mysteriously.
Blair waited as Jim unlocked the passenger side door of his truck and then opened the door and hopped in. As he fastened his seatbelt, Jim unlocked his own door and climbed into the driver's seat.
Blair's eyes darted back and forth between the detective at the wheel and the passing scenery as they drove through the city. Jim had a half-smile on his face as he noted the scrutiny of his curious partner.
"We're almost there."
Blair's eyes left Jim and he checked the buildings on either side of the street. "The Cascade Mall? Is that where we're headed?"
"Very good deduction, Sherlock," Jim laughed as he checked the rear view mirror before making a turn into the parking lot.
"But why, Jim?"
"You'll see," Jim repeated.
Blair sighed and rolled his eyes in disgust.
Men's clothing, woman's clothing, children's clothing, sporting goods, luggage, books, jewelry, pets... Jim flew by each store so quickly that Blair didn't even see their names. He simply tried to keep step with the hurried pace of his partner, his partner who had yet to explain what they were doing at the mall. Jim only slowed down once, to quickly scan ahead before taking a detour around a large benefit thrift sale set up in the center of the mall concourse.
"Jim..." Blair said breathlessly. "Where are we going?"
The Sentinel trod on, only the slight tip of his head giving away the fact that he had heard his guide's question, heard it and ignored it.
"Here." Jim came to such a sudden stop that Blair nearly ran into him. Before Blair could look up to see where they had stopped, he felt a strong grip on the shoulder of his jacket and he was forcefully pushed down into a chair.
"Hmmph," came out of Blair's mouth as he sat down hard. He noticed the woman in white standing next to him, the pamphlets on the small table, the packets of sterile wipes, and finally the box of syringes. His eyes widened as he turned to see the large sign displayed behind his seat. 'Flu shots today.' "Oh, no. Uh, uh," he said, squirming in an attempt to evade the death-like grip on his arm.
"Sorry, Chief."
Blair looked up at his partner. Jim was smiling, smiling apologetically perhaps, but smiling. "Jim, I am not getting a flu shot! I already told you that I bought some herbs for flu season. I do not need a flu shot!"
"That's what you told me last year, Chief. Remember? 'I won't get the flu, Jim.' That's what you said... just before you not only suffered through a week of the flu yourself but passed it along to me so I could suffer, too. I am not going to go through that again this year."
"But," Blair began as he looked at the nurse, not-so-patiently waiting with a release form in her hand and a syringe only a few inches away. He flashed a quick smile at her. "I don't need a flu shot. I really don't."
"Yes, he does," Jim responded with a smile of his own for the young woman. "He just doesn't know it yet."
"We do recommend that everyone receive a flu shot," she began her standard spiel. "Flu season is almost upon us, and you wouldn't want to suffer with the flu knowing that you could have prevented it, would you?"
"Jim," Blair moaned, hoping for a last minute rescue.
"Nope, it's not going to work. You just turn that puppy-dog look on someone else because it's not going to work on me. Face it, Chief. It's either get a flu shot, or..."
"Or what, I can't ride with you?"
Jim raised his eyebrows.
"Oh come on, Jim. You don't really mean that... do you? Do you?" Blair sighed. "Okay."
He reached for the pen so conveniently placed by his hand, and scrawled his signature on the release form. The nurse checked his signature, then reached for an alcohol wipe. Blair shuddered as the cold alcohol touched his skin. He closed his eyes, knowing that the needle was approaching his arm.
"Done."
Blair looked up in surprise. "That's it?"
"That's it."
Jim handed Blair a ten dollar bill from his wallet and pointed toward the nurse. "Pay the nice lady, Chief."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," the nurse said as she took the payment. "There may be some mild side effects. Soreness and swelling at the injection site. Muscle aches. Possibly even a slight temperature. Nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about," Blair repeated. He looked at Jim with murder in his eyes. "You're going to pay for this, man. I'm thinking... tests. Hearing tests, vision tests, smelling tests, lots and lots of tests..." His voice trailed off as Jim pulled him out of the chair by his arm. "You just wait."
Jim rolled over in bed, then opened his eyes blearily. He checked the clock. Almost six o'clock in the morning. He let his senses drift down to the bedroom under his. His partner's heartbeat was strong and steady, and as he listened, he was almost lulled back to sleep. Then he heard the soft sound, the sound that had woken him from his sleep. A low moan. He pushed back the covers and threw on his robe as he descended the staircase. Another moan greeted him as he quietly pushed open the french doors to check on his guide.
Blair was lying on his back, one arm thrown up over his head, the other resting on his chest. As Jim watched, Blair shifted to lie on his side for a moment, then moaned and rolled back over.
"Hey, Chief?" Jim whispered, not really wanting to disturb his partner's sleep. "Chief?"
There was no response from the younger man. Jim gingerly reached out his hand and felt his partner's forehead. Definitely a little too warm. "Chief?" he tried again.
Blair mumbled a few indistinguishable words, then slowly opened his eyes. "Jim?" He blinked furiously to bring the detective into view. "Is something wrong?"
Jim sat down on the edge of Blair's bed. "You tell me."
Blair looked confused for a moment, then shifted his weight to sit up. "Ow, ow, ow," he said, pursing his lips together as he reached to touch the upper portion of his right arm. "Damn, that hurts."
"Let me see." Jim's voice was quiet but authoritative, and Blair automatically extended his arm for his Sentinel's perusal. Jim examined the area surrounding the faint needle mark.
"It's pretty swollen, Chief. How does it feel?"
"Hurts. Definitely hurts."
"Headache, too?"
Blair nodded, the fine lines around his eyes revealing his pain.
Jim placed his hand on Blair's forehead for a second time. "And you've got a fever." Jim got off the bed and looked down at his friend. "Looks like that flu shot caused some side effects. I'll be right back."
Blair listened as Jim made his way first into the bathroom, then into the kitchen. He could hear the sound of the refrigerator door opening, then the sharp crack of the ice cube tray. Soon Jim appeared back at his side, arms filled with towels, two ice bags, a bottle of Tylenol, and a glass of water perched precariously on top of the pile.
"Here we go, buddy." Jim was definitely in his Blessed Protector mode as he helped Blair sit up to swallow two Tylenol tablets, then wrapped the ice bags inside the small towels before fussing with the arrangement of the ice over Blair's arm and across his forehead. "How's that?"
Blair sighed as he felt Jim's hand sweeping through his hair in a soothing motion. "Better. Lots better."
"Why don't you see if you can go back to sleep? It won't be time to get up for another hour."
"Okay," Blair snuggled deeper into his pillow as Jim pulled the blankets back up and around him. "Thanks, Jim."
Jim smiled. "You're welcome, Chief." He stopped at the door and waited until he could hear Blair's breathing slow into a soft sleeping rhythm, then headed back upstairs to grab his clothes for the day. By the time Blair awoke again, he'd have a nice breakfast waiting.
"Ow!" Blair put the pen down on the coffee table, then took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes.
"Problem, Chief?" Jim called from the kitchen.
"Yeah, a big one. I can't move without my arm hurting. How am I supposed to get this done?" Blair looked down at the small pile of exams that he had finished grading, and then the large pile of exams still waiting to be graded. "I've already been working on this for almost four hours and I'm nowhere near finished. These grades have to be posted by Monday morning."
"Move over, Junior." Jim motioned toward the end of the couch.
"Why?" asked Blair, shifting over so Jim could sit down.
"Tell me what to do," Jim said, chuckling at the expression on Blair's face.
"You mean it? That would be so great!" Blair asked, discouragement quickly changing to hope. "They're multiple choice exams instead of essay, so all you have to do is compare the answers in the blue books to the ones on the answer sheet and mark the wrong ones in red."
"Consider it done," Jim replied, rolling up his sleeves in an exaggerated motion to indicate his willingness to begin working. He picked up the red pen, then gazed critically at his partner. "You looked tired, buddy. Why don't you take a nap while I do this?"
"Okay, Jim. Uh, Jim, thanks." Blair lightly touched Jim's shoulder as he moved from the couch and headed for his bedroom. "Oh, Jim?"
Jim looked up from the exams to see Blair's smile. "Yeah, Chief?"
"About those tests..."
Jim raised his eyebrows. "Cancelled?"
"Nope, just postponed. You're not getting out of it that easy!"
Blair just grinned wider as the pillow thrown in his direction missed his head and bounced off the door frame.
~end~
November 1999