THANKS: Of course, the first thanks go to Wolfpup, aka WonderWolf, for giving me such a beautiful home. Then there's Shallan, aka WonderBeta, for doing a great job helping me not to make a total fool of myself. Any remaining mistakes are mine. Naturally, I would also like to thank the ladies of The Writers Nook chat room for letting me try this out as a chatfic. Lastly, not surely not leastly (not a real word, but who cares? ;-)), my greatest thanks go to Spirit, for blessing me with the ability to write. My most eternal gratitude.
DISCLAIMER: Ok, am I the only one who thinks this is getting old? Don't sue, have no money, spent it all on a new mountain bike, if you take the bike I will kill you because it was a damn trial and a half to get the dern thing in the first place and to get it in proper working order because the dolts at Crappy Tire (read: Canadian Tire for the rest of you) can't seem to put a bike together properly. And no, that was not a run-on sentence, that was merely me on a mild rant. Emphasis on mild. *BG*
NOTE: And yes, there is a moral at the end of the story. I think it also works for those of use who aren't Sentinels.
Anna Rennie-Clark
Jim made his way to the break room after having foisted off his paperwork on Blair, intent on making and enjoying a good cup of coffee before he did anything else. He had to make a fresh pot, seeing as the person to get the last mug full had so rudely neglected to make a fresh pot. He was pouring himself a second cup, when it occurred to Jim that his partner might like one as well, so he went to the cupboard to retrieve a mug for the younger man.
As he was pouring the aromatic dark brew, Jim's hearing latched onto the sound of Blair's voice, who had just engaged in a telephone conversation with his younger 'cousin' Anna. He knew the two weren't related by blood, but instead by that curious sort of relationship the two families had had when Naomi entered their lives. Curious, Jim tuned in further into the conversation, catching it just past its beginning.
"Hey, what size balls does Jim have?" he heard Anna ask from where ever it was she was calling .
"I dunno," Blair replied, "don't think he has any right now."
There was a slight pause before the young woman continued. "Well, do you think he'd like big ones? Or is he the type that would benefit more from a smaller set?"
Jim almost choked on his coffee, growing ever more incredulous from the first moment. He had absolutely no idea why his guide was talking about such an intimate portion of his anatomy to his young female cousin, let alone that he was talking to any about them.
"Hmmmmmm... Well, Jim's got big hands. Small balls might not work so well for him, at least not at this point," Blair pointed out.
"Well then, how about a set of big gold balls? Or is gold to flashy? Maybe he'd like silver instead. But you know, I'm sure they still have some nice patterned ones too."
In the break room, Jim shook his head, confused and a little hurt about the topic of the conversation. However, he was rather curious to hear the rest of the conversation, and so the sentinel decided to wait a little longer before calling Blair on the conversation.
"Well, Jim has a.... thing for jaguars. Do they have any jaguar-pattern balls?"
There was a hesitant pause on Anna's end, during which Jim swore he could hear the intelligent young woman thinking. "Ah... no, I really don't think so."
"Well, what about dragon balls? They ALWAYS have dragon balls!"
If Jim didn't know better, he could almost think the two friends were talking about some obscure Chinese herb or something.
"Dragon balls it is then, if I can't find any jaguar balls," Anna replied. "I have a set of medium sized dragon balls, they're really nice. I think the large ones would be perfect for Jim... he does have big hands."
Jim could almost hear Blair nod in agreement, and thought how he'd like nothing better than to continue the downward motion of his guide's head right into his desk.
"Ok, great, send over a set of the large dragon balls then. I'll send you a check for the cost, how's that?"
"Nah, don't worry about it, Blair," Anna dismissed. "I like Jim, he's a pretty nice guy. I think a set of these balls would do him good."
Jim blinked. What?! What was Blair's teenaged cousin doing thinking about him, and, well... balls?!!
"This is really cool of you Anna, really. I'll make sure to keep it a surprise for Jim, let him know that you sent them. His tactile responses... his wrists and hands have really been bothering him lately... cramping from typing reports--"
"You mean Jim actually did his paperwork?" Anna broke in, the incredulity in her voice half serious, half not.
Blair snorted. "Yeah, believe it or not, the Big Guy did it himself that time." Jim scowled mightily then stopped, forgetting for the moment that Blair could not see him. "And then... there was that stakeout from hell. I think using these balls will really help him loosen up the muscles in his hands and arms."
Jim spit out the mouthful of coffee he'd just swallowed, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. Excuse him! That last comment from Blair was the last he could take. Setting down his nearly empty coffee mug, he stormed out of the break room and made his way over to the bull-pen.
Just as he made it through the wide double-doors to Major Crimes, Blair was hanging up with his cousin. "I really appreciate your help, Anna. Those Chinese medicine balls should really help Jim's hands and wrists. Talk to you later!"
THE END
And the Sentinel's moral of the story is... never eavesdrop on a conversation when you do not know the true meaning of its content!