Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Much appreciation goes to Shallan for her beta work... thank you!
Carole
Blair leaned forward, watching as Jim stirred briefly, shifting his position on the narrow couch. Despite the movement, Jim's eyes remained closed, his breathing soft and steady, and he settled back down into sleep, wrapped in the afghan Blair had draped over him almost an hour before.
The plan had been successful, with muted lights, a crackling fire, soft music, and a full stomach all combining to work their magic on an exhausted detective. Blair smiled, remembering Jim's relieved sigh as he sank into the cushions. It had only taken seconds for the lure of slumber to draw him in.
Lifting his mug to take another sip of tea, the young anthropologist took a moment to savor the soothing taste before returning to his work. With flickering flames both illuminating and casting shadows on each page, Blair quietly and methodically continued to make his way through the large stack of papers still awaiting his perusal.
"Mmmm..."
His attention drawn by the soft murmur, Blair glanced up to see a pair of sleepy blue eyes slowly opening. He gave Jim an affectionate smile as his friend's gaze swung his way.
Jim smiled drowsily, reaching up to rub his eyes with the back of one hand. "Sorry, Chief. I'm not very good company tonight."
Blair's smile grew wider as he set his mug down and left his seat, moving to stand in front of his friend. "That's okay. You need the sleep. But I think you'll be more comfortable upstairs."
"I don't think I can get up," Jim admitted through a yawn.
Reaching down to grasp Jim by both hands, Blair pulled him off the couch and to his feet as the afghan dropped to the floor. Jim overbalanced for a moment before Blair steadied him with a gentle hand on each shoulder.
"This would be easier if you'd keep your eyes open," Blair teased his partner, leading the unsteady Sentinel to the staircase that led to the upstairs bedroom.
Jim chuckled softly. "I'm trying."
"Can you handle it from here?"
Jim nodded, and as Blair watched, he made his way up the stairs, one hand on the rail to support his weary body. When he reached the top, he turned around, his gaze sweeping across the dark loft to rest on his Guide. A small contented smile crossed his lips. "Thanks, Chief."
"You're welcome. 'night, Jim."
"Good night."
Blair listened until he heard the rustle of bed clothes and the creak of the bed, then picked up the fallen afghan. He tucked it around his shoulders as he sat down on the couch, smiling at the residual warmth that still resided within its folds.
~end~
September 2001