Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Based on an urban legend.
Much appreciation goes to Shallan and TAE for their beta work... thank you!
Carole
Jim Ellison entered the loft with a relieved sigh, tossing his keys into the basket and hanging up his jacket before wearily leaning back against the door.
"Hi, Jim."
"Hey, Chief," Jim mumbled without looking up. Pushing away from the door with a barely suppressed groan, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and joined his partner in the living room.
Glancing up from his laptop, Blair took in his friend's haggard appearance as Jim dropped down on the couch beside him. "Rough day?"
Jim sighed again, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. "Paperwork. Nothing but paperwork."
Blair flinched in sympathy. "Oh, man. Did you eat yet?"
Eyes flicking toward the kitchen, Jim shook his head wearily. "I don't think I have enough energy to get up again, hungry or not. What about you?"
"I ordered Chinese about twenty minutes ago. Should be here soon."
Jim straightened up, his face brightening and his stomach growling at the thought of food. "Enough for two?" he asked hopefully.
Blair nodded. "I figured you wouldn't have time to eat."
"Thanks, Chief," Jim said, smiling warmly. Glancing at the large pile of blue books stacked on the coffee table, he commented, "Looks like I'm not the only one with paperwork today."
"Nope."
"What are you working on?"
"Posting grades."
"Sounds exciting."
Blair rolled his eyes. "Oh, it is."
"Yeah, I bet."
Smiling at Jim's gentle teasing, Blair picked up the next exam. An amused look crossed his face and he chuckled softly.
"Something funny?"
"Well, yeah. See, I've been having a hard time with a few of my students..."
"They hassling you, Chief?" Jim cut in with a frown.
"No, no, nothing like that." Blair waved off Jim's concern. "There are four of them, all freshman, in my Anthro 101 class. They're not bad kids, just a little undisciplined. For every major assignment I've given, they've come up with an excuse to turn it in late. You know, computer crashed, family emergency, unexpected trip out of town... that kind of thing."
"They did it again?"
"Yesterday, all four of them requested a make-up exam. Seems they had a flat tire on the way to class."
"You didn't believe them?"
"Not with their track record!" Blair laughed. "Sooooo..."
"Okay, Sandburg. What did you do?"
"I..." Blair tried to control his mirth long enough to get the words out. "When they entered the room this morning, I gave each of them a blue book."
"And?" Jim prompted.
"Inside was a copy of the test. Just one question."
"An essay question?"
Bursting into laughter again, Blair's eyes twinkled mischievously. "No. It said, 'which tire?'"
Jim's eyes widened and he started to chuckle, unable to resist his partner's infectious laughter. "You didn't?!"
"You should have seen their faces! I've never seen four people try so hard not to look at anyone else. They knew I was watching them..."
"...so they had to answer the question on their own," Jim finished, laughing helplessly.
"Yeah."
"So, which tire was it?" Jim managed to ask.
Blair grinned. "The flat occurred in the front left, front right, and back left tire," he quoted in a highbrow professorial tone. "Wait, wait! There's more!" he said, raising his hand as Jim continued to laugh.
"I don't think I can take much more, Chief."
"As they were getting up from their chairs, I casually reminded them that an incorrect answer would result in a failing grade. One by one, they dropped their blue books into the trash can and left the room."
Jim reached out to ruffle Blair's curly hair. "Pretty smart, Darwin. I bet they won't try that excuse again."
"Maybe not," Blair shrugged, effortlessly ducking Jim's hand with an ease born of practice. "At least not in my class."
~end~
April 2001