Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Carole
Darkness was falling as the blue and white Ford truck made its way down the street, two friends quietly conversing inside.
"So, how many times did you call Daryl this week?" Jim asked, darting a questioning look at the man beside him.
"Every night," Simon laughed. "What about you? How many times did you call Sandburg?"
A sheepish grin appeared on Jim's face. "The same."
"Too quiet around the loft since he's been gone?" Simon teased.
Jim rolled his eyes, hardly able to believe it himself. "Yep."
Reaching across the seat, Simon laid his hand on Jim's shoulder. "Face it, Jim. You miss the kid."
"I know, I know," Jim grumbled with mock annoyance, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Simon glanced out the window. "Hey, look," he called, his eyes on the parking area in front of the loft.
"You were right, Simon," Jim said with a pleased smile. "They did make it for dinner." He hurriedly pulled into a parking space a few spots down from the Volvo, eager to see his Guide after a week-long separation.
"I knew the promise of an extra-large pizza with all the toppings would work!" Simon chuckled. "In fact, it was probably the only thing that would. Daryl sounded pretty tired when I talked to him."
"Blair sounded exhausted when I called him this afternoon," Jim admitted. "I think the first week at the Academy has been hard on both of them."
Simon climbed out of the truck, nose twitching in response to the aroma coming from the two pizzas he carried. "But not too hard," Simon quickly interjected. "They'll be okay."
"Yeah, I think they will be," Jim agreed, balancing a third large pizza in one hand as he closed the driver's side door. "But it won't be easy for either of them. They've both got baggage to deal with. With the fallout from Sandburg's dissertation, he's gonna have to work twice as hard as most of the cadets just to gain some measure of respect. And Daryl, well, there's going to be a lot of pressure when word gets around that he's your son. He'll be expected to finish at the top of his class."
"Those two are determined," Simon commented. "That sense of determination is going to get both of them through it."
Jim nodded in agreement. "Of course, it will help that they've got a police captain and a cop-of-the-year to support them."
"Not to mention a Sentinel who takes protecting not only his Guide, but his friends, very seriously?"
"Couldn't hurt," Jim retorted with a wide grin. He brushed his hand across the hood of Blair's car as they walked past it. "They've been here for a while."
"Knowing those two, they probably decided to get an early start on homework so they'll have the weekend free."
"My guess is that they're either listening to CDs or playing computer games," Jim said.
"Is that really a guess, or did you..." Simon broke off deliberately, glancing up at the loft windows as he imitated Jim's familiar listening stance.
Jim shook his head. "Would I do that, Simon?"
Simon snorted. "Of course you would."
"I didn't listen... really," Jim added, spotting the look of disbelief on Simon's face.
The two men made their way up the staircase, only pausing when Jim fished his keys out of his pocket.
Jim opened the door, dropping his keys into the basket before scanning the room. "Look," he said with a smile, nodding toward the next room as he quietly closed the door behind them.
Simon followed his gaze toward the living room. Blair was asleep on the love seat, curled up on his side, afghan pulled over his face so that only a few wayward curls could be seen. Daryl was huddled under a quilt on the larger couch, with only his sock-clad feet and the top of his head showing.
Several thick textbooks were piled on the coffee table and an 'Introduction to Police Procedures' study guide was lying open on the floor.
"Dad?" Daryl called, pushing the quilt off his face to squint sleepily at his father.
"Jim?" Blair yawned, blue eyes half-open, reaching up to push the afghan out of the way with a fist that still tightly held a yellow highlighter.
"That one must be mine," Simon laughed, watching as his son lifted one hand to rub at sleep-heavy eyes.
"Does that mean that I have to claim the other one?" Jim asked with an answering laugh, his face mirroring Simon's look of fatherly pride.
Setting the pizzas down on the kitchen table, the two men exchanged a grin as they both moved into the living room.
Jim removed the marker from his partner's grasp, dropping it next to one of the discarded textbooks, then pulled the afghan back over him. "Go back to sleep, Chief," he said, patting Blair gently on the shoulder.
Simon covered his son with the quilt, tucking the sides in close. "You, too, son."
"Thanks, Jim," Blair mumbled, his eyes already closed.
"Okay, Dad," Daryl yawned.
Jim gestured toward the balcony. "Shall we?"
"Yeah," Simon agreed. "The kids can eat when they wake up."
Simon picked up one of the pizzas as Jim grabbed two beers out of the fridge. The sound of soft snoring followed them as they headed out to the balcony.
~end~
April 2000