Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly and Paramount.
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Originally published in Sensory Overload #8.
Carole
"Just one hour, right, Jim?"
Nodding in reassurance, Jim patiently repeated the words he'd spoken several times since leaving Blair's office. "Right, Chief. Just one hour."
His expression saying otherwise, Blair mumbled, "Okay. I can do one hour." He sat back in his seat, anxiously twisting the seat belt between his fingers.
Jim shook his head, wondering again if they'd reach their destination before Blair decided to impulsively bolt the moving vehicle and head back to Rainier. A few minutes later, with a sigh of relief, he made the final turn into Cascade's Tillman Avenue Park and followed the hand carved signs to the paved parking area. As Blair unbuckled his seat belt and reached to open his door, he chuckled softly and voiced, "Hang on, Chief. At least let me park first."
With a sheepish smile, Blair forced himself to wait until Jim had removed the key from the ignition before getting out of the truck. "What time is it, Jim?"
"Sandburg, will you stop worrying about the time," Jim ordered in fond exasperation.
"Sorry. It's just that I have so much to do and if I don't--"
"Chief," Jim broke in. "I promised. Remember?"
"Yeah."
"So... relax." Jim gestured toward a small grassy knoll not far from the parking lot. "How about if we set up over there?"
Nodding his agreement, Blair reached for one handle of the large ice-filled cooler. Side by side the two men made their way across the grass, setting the cooler down under a group of trees.
While Jim unfolded a blanket and spread it out, Blair surveyed the almost deserted recreation area, comparing their peaceful surroundings with the building he'd just left. Unlike Rainier, where institutional beige and white, along with artificial lighting, was the norm; here the colors were bold and bright. The grass was a vivid, deep green; the sky, a soothing azure blue and cloudless as far as his gaze could see. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of fresh, clean air, smiling in delight as the sun warmed his uplifted face. "Man, this feels so good, Jim."
Busy setting out their picnic lunch, Jim glanced up at Blair. He was glad to see, for the first time in a week, a peaceful expression on his stressed-out partner's face. "Ready to eat?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah." Shedding his jacket as he sat down, Blair accepted the beer that Jim held out. He quickly twisted off the cap and took a mouthful of the icy cold liquid.
Jim pushed a sandwich-laden plate toward Blair. "How about a sandwich?"
Blair's eyes lit up at the sight of the stuffed pita sandwiches. Then, seeing the chips, fruit, and chocolate chip cookies, his mouth dropped open. "Wow. You really went all out."
"I was hungry," Jim shrugged, failing to mention he'd made a special trip to the grocery store to pick up some of Blair's favorites. "Dig in."
Laughing as a minor arm-wrestling match ensued when Jim tried to elbow him aside to reach the chips first, Blair dug in, attacking his meal with gusto.
It was almost twenty minutes later that Jim surveyed the remains of their picnic lunch and decided he couldn't stuff in another bite. "Chief?"
Blair swallowed a last crumb of chocolate chip cookie. "Huh?"
"Want anything else before I clean this up?"
Blair shook his head. "I am seriously stuffed."
With a glance at his watch, Jim quickly stored the leftover food in the cooler with the drinks before gathering up the trash and heading for the distant garbage receptacle. "Be back in a sec."
Slipping out of his shoes as Jim disappeared out of sight, Blair whisked off his socks in a smooth movement and enjoyed the feel of the soft grass on his bare toes. Leaning back with a sigh, a quick flick of his wrist released his hair from its tight confinement, and he ran his fingers through the mass of curls, pushing a few stray stands out of his face.
"It's almost time to go," Jim announced regretfully, returning to Blair's side.
His attention caught by a row of nearby swings, swaying almost imperceptibly in the slight breeze, Blair didn't respond. Instead, his eyes lit up and he got to his feet.
Jim chuckled in amusement as Blair raced toward the swing set, plopping himself into the first swing and pushing off with a shout of glee.
"Look, Jim. No hands," Blair called a moment later, his hands held high in victory.
"Don't fall off the swing, Sandburg," Jim warned. "I am not in the mood for a trip to the emergency room."
Long curls blowing in the breeze, Blair insisted, "I'm not going to fall."
"Famous last words," Jim muttered, trying but failing to maintain a threatening tone in the face of his friend's child-like exuberance.
Blair continued to pump his feet, soaring higher and higher, until the forward motion reached its peak, resulting in an unsettling bump. "Whoa!" he shouted in surprise, flailing with both hands for the security of the chain links.
Eyes wide, Jim moved closer, hoping to catch his partner if he fell off the swing. His chest tight, he held his breath until Blair managed to regain his grip. Exhaling in relief, he growled, "Sandburg..."
"Man, that was close," Blair gasped, still trying to catch his breath.
Jim snorted. "No kidding. How about you hold on with both hands from now on?"
"Okay, okay. I haven't done this since I was a kid, you know."
"Which wasn't that long ago," Jim teased, unable to resist.
Blair laughed. "I heard that." As Jim's twinkling eyes met his own, the young man grinned in delight. He pumped his feet a few more times, rapidly gaining height again.
"One hour, Chief."
"Already?" Blair blinked in amazed disbelief, looking down at Jim. "No way, man."
"Yep. Duty calls and so does your work."
Blair moaned dramatically, but even the reminder of paperwork yet to come couldn't dim the sparkle in his eyes.
Jim tapped his watch. "One hour and one minute."
In response, Blair playfully stretched his legs out as far as he could. With his toes pointed to the sky, he was almost vertical to the ground.
Affecting a stern posture and expression, Jim reported, "One hour and two minutes."
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Letting the swing's momentum gradually slow unaided, Blair finally came to a stop. Bare feet still dangling in the air, he remained still for a few seconds before letting out a satisfied sigh.
"Ready?"
"Yep." Blair dropped to the ground, wobbling a bit as he landed. "I feel like I'm still soaring," he laughed as Jim reached out to steady him, holding his arm in a firm grip until he had regained his balance. "Thanks, Jim."
"No problem."
Retrieving his socks and shoes, Blair quickly put them back on before shrugging into his jacket. "You know what?"
Jim raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
Blair smiled. "I'm glad we came."
"So am I, buddy," Jim said, throwing a companionable arm across the now relaxed shoulders of his best friend.
"Hey, Jim?"
"Yeah?"
Blair bounced a little. "Can we do it again?"
Jim laughed. "Sure."
"Cool. Next time you get to try the swings."
"I don't think so."
"Why not? It's fun, Jim. You just lean back, let your hair blow in the..." Blair broke off with a snicker, eyeing Jim's close-cropped hair. "Oh. Sorry."
"Funny, Chief. Real funny." Without warning, Jim grabbed the younger man in a tight headlock and playfully ruffled his wind-blown curls.
"Jim!"
Maintaining his hold, Jim laughed as Blair futilely tried to wiggle out of his predicament. "One hour and seven minutes."
"I've got to get back to my office, Jim."
"One hour and eight minutes."
"Jim!"
~end~