Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Much appreciation goes to Shallan for her beta work... thank you!
Category: Humor
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Carole
"Man, this is one busy place today," Blair Sandburg said in amazement, dodging detectives, uniforms, perps, civilians, maintenance workers, Rhonda, and the donut girl as he made his way through the noisy room toward his partner. After pausing to exchange greetings with Henri and Rafe, converse with the young woman behind the donut cart, and make a date with a visiting assistant district attorney, he finally arrived at his destination. "Hey, Jim."
"Hi, Chief." Jim looked up from his computer screen with barely disguised amusement, having effortlessly tracked Blair's slow but sure progress through the room. "Glad you could make it."
"Sorry it took me so long to get here." Blair tossed his backpack on the floor next to the detective's desk where it would be out of the way before appropriating a nearby empty chair and sitting down. "I got held up at my office."
"Not literally, I hope," was Jim's deliberately deadpan response.
"Not this time," Blair laughed, his sheepish grin acknowledging it wasn't totally out of the realm of possibility. "A couple of my students wanted to talk about their grades." He darted a look toward Simon's office. "Did you give him the reports yet?"
Jim shook his head, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the top of his desk. "Actually, I'm not so sure about this. Simon isn't exactly a practical joke kind of person."
"Oh, come on, Jim. Playing practical jokes, harmless practical jokes, is a time honored tradition." Blair lowered his voice conspiratorially, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You should have seen some of the practical jokes played on the professors this morning."
"I don't know, Chief," Jim answered, still feeling more than a little uneasy about the whole idea. "He wasn't in the best of moods when he got back from his meeting with the mayor, and this place..." He gestured at the chaos around him, which, if anything, had become even more pronounced since Blair's arrival. "This place has been pretty crazy ever since," he finished.
"All the more reason to do it," Blair countered, summoning up his best pleading expression.
Jim sighed, rolling his eyes, knowing exactly what his partner was up to, having been coerced by that same expression a few too many times before.
"It'll give him something to laugh about," Blair added in his most persuasive tone, "instead of being all stressed out."
Sighing again, Jim had to admit his partner had a good point. The prank was harmless enough, and it just might provide the overworked man with a few minutes of levity. "Okay," he finally agreed, allowing himself to be talked back into it.
"Yes!" Blair exclaimed, raising his fist in the air triumphantly. "It'll be fun, Jim. You'll see. Simon's going to get a real kick out of those reports we wrote."
"I hope you're right, Sandburg, because I don't want to be working traffic control for the next month," Jim turned to say before heading for Simon's office, reports in hand.
"Of course I'm right," Blair declared smugly as he watched Jim cross the room, a wide grin lighting up his face in anticipation of Simon's reaction to their practical joke.
Jim tapped lightly on the open door before entering. "Excuse me, sir. Here are those reports you wanted." When the harried-looking captain simply extended one hand while reaching for the ringing phone with the other, the detective placed the files in Simon's waiting hand and exited the office.
Barely giving Jim enough time to return to his seat, Blair eagerly asked, "Do you think Simon will read them right away?"
Jim shook his head. "I doubt it. He's on the phone."
"Oh," Blair said in disappointment. "Well, maybe if you--"
"Shh." Jim cocked his head to the side, focusing his hearing on the sounds coming from inside the captain's office. "He just hung up."
"And?" Blair leaned forward in expectation.
"He's pouring a cup of coffee." Jim sniffed at the air. "Vanilla Hazelnut Cream."
"And?" Blair repeated.
"He's sitting down, scooting his chair in, taking a sip of coffee, and shuffling through some papers," Jim reported dutifully, a small smile gracing his lips.
Uncharacteristically ignoring another amazing display of Jim's sentinel abilities, Blair zeroed in on the last item on Jim's list. "He's shuffling through some papers? The reports?"
Jim shrugged. "Could be."
"Hey, Jim, what do you think Simon's going to do when he comes to some of our, uh, creative parts?"
"I have no idea," Jim admitted, returning his attention to Simon's office. "But we should be finding out soon."
"I hope he's not drinking coffee when he starts to read them."
Jim had to grin, picturing the unsuspecting man spitting a mouthful of coffee all over his desk. "Me, too."
"I was in pursuit of the suspect until he changed into a bat and flew away? What the--"
Jim suddenly snickered quietly to himself.
"What?" Blair demanded. "What's so funny?"
"He just read the first one," Jim said, laughing again.
Blair bounced excitedly at the news. "He's reading them out loud? That's so cool! Did he say anything else?" he asked, his words tumbling over each other.
"Not yet."
"Man, I wish I could see the expression on his face when he reads the one about the eight-tentacled creature. Did he read it yet?"
"I attempted to apprehend the suspect, but he morphed into a eight-tentacled creature and disappeared into the gates of Hell?"
Jim nodded, dividing his attention between Simon's voice and his partner's comments. "He just did."
"Any reaction?"
Eyes closed, Jim tuned back in to Simon's voice. "He mumbled something under his breath, but I'm not sure what he said."
"Did he get to the slithering snake yet? I thought that one was pretty good."
"I followed the suspect into an alleyway, where he transformed into a large black snake and slithered into a hole in the wall?"
"He just read it."
"Does he think it's funny?"
Jim lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, contemplating the question for a moment before opening his eyes to meet Blair's gaze. "Well, he's definitely not laughing."
"I hope he's at least smiling."
"Actually, it sounds like he's grinding his teeth."
"Oh, man," Blair groaned, his shoulders sagging. "Hey, do you think we could, I don't know, distract him long enough for one of us to slip in there and replace those reports with the real ones?"
Jim considered the idea before shaking his head regretfully and letting out a sigh. "Way too late for that, Chief."
"Is he still reading them?"
Resuming his eavesdropping, Jim nodded. "Yeah."
"I trailed the suspect across the Cascade Bridge, at which time he proceeded to SPROUT GILLS AND JUMP INTO THE WATER?!"
Blair thought for a moment, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, then asked, "He is just reading, right?"
Jim threw the younger man an inquisitive look. "What do you mean?"
"He's not, you know, getting up out of his chair or anything?"
"No. He's still at his desk."
"Good," Blair sighed in relief.
"While attempting to escape, the suspect was suddenly ENVELOPED IN A BRIGHT BEAM OF LIGHT AND TELEPORTED ABOARD AN ALIEN SPACESHIP?!"
Jim cringed visibly, one hand flying to cup his right ear protectively.
Blair immediately tensed in alarm, bracing himself. "What?"
"He's getting louder with each one."
"Louder?" Blair repeated, paling.
"Louder," Jim confirmed. "And he sounds very annoyed."
Blair shifted nervously in his seat. "I'm starting to regret this," he admitted.
Jim stared at him incredulously. "Starting? I'm way past starting."
"We are in so much trouble," Blair moaned, covering his face with his hands.
"No kidding," Jim muttered.
"Hey, Jim," Blair began, looking up as a possible solution occurred to him. "Maybe this would be a good time for us to take a lunch break."
Immediately recognizing a good idea when he heard it, Jim grabbed Blair's arm and abruptly yanked the surprised man out of his chair. "Good idea. You can explain about April Fool's Day after we eat."
"What do you mean I can explain," Blair asked in indignation, pulling Jim to a halt. "You're the one who gave him those reports."
"You're the one who wrote them," Jim retorted back.
"Jim," Blair warned, his eyes narrowing.
"Okay, okay, we'll explain," Jim amended, his hands raised in surrender, knowing if he didn't, he'd be facing an irate Simon alone.
Satisfied, Blair released Jim's sleeve. "Let's go, man."
The two men hurried toward the exit, ignoring the curious and somewhat startled looks directed their way by the rest of the Major Crime crew. "Late lunch," Jim called back over his shoulder in explanation.
"Can you still hear him?" Blair asked, entering the empty elevator car with Jim right behind him.
Jim nodded. "He's reading the last report."
"After firing several shots in my direction, the suspect ducked into a nearby store. When he emerged out the back door, he had MUTATED INTO A TWO-HEADED DOG?!"
Blair shifted his feet uneasily, silently entreating the elevator to descend faster. "Did he say anything else?"
"No." Jim stepped aside, hurriedly waving Blair out the door ahead of him as the elevator reached the bottom floor. "But," he paused uncertainly. "I think he was... growling."
"Oh, man," Blair groaned again, his eyes wide.
Suddenly Jim froze.
Blair clutched at Jim's arm. "What?" he demanded.
"He just took a very deep breath."
"Dial it down, man, dial it down!" Blair ordered frantically.
Jim obeyed, lowering his hearing to just above a normal level. Amazingly, even with his hearing turned down, he could still hear Simon's bellow down seven levels and out into the parking garage.
"ELLISON! SANDBURG! MY OFFICE NOW!"
Softly chuckling to himself, Simon Banks watched from his window as Jim and Blair escaped from the police station with a squeal of tires. Returning to his seat and settling back into his chair, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Just wait until you return, gentlemen. You'll find out what a real April Fools joke is all about."
~end~
author's note: first two "reports" written by Sally during a discussion on senfic
April 2003