Genuine

Author's Note: This is a very short epilogue to "Crossroads". No copyright infringement intended with characters owned by Paramount/Pet Fly. Comments always welcome.

The Sentinel shut the door gently behind him as he entered the loft and spied his roommate sprawled across the sofa. Hanging up his coat, he tiptoed quietly across the room to peer down at his friend, grinning in spite of himself at the way Blair was apparently sleeping peacefully amid a nest of books and papers. Sandburg had seemed to recover from his ordeal at Clayton Falls with no ill effects, although it appeared to Ellison that he lacked some of his usual stamina. Blair refused to see a doctor, insisting that he was fine. The Sentinel knew he was telling the truth, and comforted himself with the reasoning that his irrepressible partner just needed a few days of rest to completely shake off the residuals of the toxin he'd been given.

As carefully as he could, using his Sentinel touch to guide him, Ellison began extracting the notes and books from around his friend, placing them in a stack on the coffee table but leaving them open where the anthropologist had them. He managed to get them all, including one tricky notebook clutched against Blair's chest, without disturbing his partner. Grabbing the brightly colored afghan from the back of the chair, Jim spread it over Sandburg, covering him warmly. Then he gently removed Blair's glasses, setting them on top of the stack of books on the table. The Sentinel stroked his guide's hair briefly, then turned and headed up the stairs.

Sandburg smiled to himself as he heard the light tread ascending to the loft. He had awakened when his friend had begun divesting him of his research, but he had lain still, worried about opening his eyes and creating an awkward moment. But awkward became the last thing on his mind as Jim covered him with the blanket. At that moment, he felt safe and warm and cared for. Something that he had been terrified of losing when Ellison had complained about him always being in his face every time he turned around. It was then that Blair realized the truth. Jim Ellison was an extremely private individual, and he had been tolerating being a 'lab rat' rather well, considering. But he did need a breather every now and again, and with hindsight, Sandburg could see how it would be annoying for his friend to have his anticipated peaceful weekend disrupted by what he had been trying to get away from. Even if it was Simon's idea. But Blair realized he'd let his hurt feelings clog his ears, and he hadn't heard the rest of what his Sentinel had said. "I love you". And the gentle hand stroking his hair told him beyond a doubt that Jim had meant every word.

Blair shifted slightly to a more comfortable position and tugged the afghan up over his shoulder. He had a mountain of work he needed to be doing for his classes, not to mention the deadline for his peer review which was coming up dangerously fast. Tomorrow was going to be a full day at MCU and he wanted to work on a new test he'd devised for his Sentinel's hearing. But he forced himself to put all that out of his mind and relax with a sigh. He was warm and drowsy and for the moment it just felt too good to lay there, doing nothing but watching the shadows lengthen across the loft. It was a luxury he rarely afforded himself, but for tonight, he decided he would indulge. Besides, it was his night to cook, and he thought that if he laid there long enough, there was a very good chance Jim would start the meal preparations without him.

The Sentinel turned on the small lamp next to his bed, grinning slightly as he changed from his court suit into jeans and a t-shirt. He knew exactly when his sly friend had woken up, but had kept up the pretense anyway. It was his chance to undo some of the hurt he had seen in his partner's eyes when he'd basically told him and Simon to get lost after they followed him up north. He'd been ticked, and as usual, he'd spoken without thinking. But Blair, of all people, should have known how important a little down time was to him. Then when people started dropping like flies and the military showed up, all of that ceased to matter. Especially once he had to watch Sandburg being carried into that isolation tent, not knowing if he'd ever see him walk out alive again. Made a petty squabble rather insignificant, but Ellison knew he'd hit a nerve with his roommate, and he wanted to let him know that he hadn't meant it. Words seemed to fail him, as always. So he did the only thing he could while Blair was playing possum. Just a little touch, but it was filled with genuine love and appreciation and concern, and he knew that his roommate would read it as such. His way of letting Sandburg know he did like having him around and hated the thought of him moving out. For even though the military quarantine had all been a sham, the Sentinel's gut clenched with terror at the memory of it all, when they thought it had been real. And he never wanted to go through that again. Never wanted to know what it was like to live without the reassuring strong, steady heartbeat downstairs.

Jim flopped down across his bed, arranging his pillows behind his head. Grabbing the book off the nightstand, he opened it to where he'd left off and settled down to read, knowing full well whose turn it was to cook and having no intention of venturing back down the stairs until dinner was on the table.

Finis

The Sandburg Zone
Home
Cascade Library