Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its related characters, namely Jim and Blair, are NOT mine. They belong to the lucky people at PET FLY Productions and Paramount and UPN. I'm just borrowing them for a while and I'll give 'em back when I'm done. (Boo Hoo Hoo.)

Note: Okay, I should have been working on a bunch of other things, including a major paper that's due in a couple weeks, but the guys just called to me, it was really late and I was getting silly and oh...I love pressure writing! It's just silliness and I hope no one minds. My profound apologies to the Archive Elves regarding my earlier vignette. You can archive this one and that one if you like. I accept all commentary - good, bad, and ugly. Simply address it to me: wnnepooh@erols.com

Just a thought...

by Wnnepooh

Blair relaxed on the sofa, reading yet another text for another class. Jim gave up trying to figure which were for classes taught and which for classes taken. Sun through the windows washed over them and most of the livingroom, warming everything in spite of the cold outside. The peace and quiet had just begun to seep in when the phone rang.

"Don't, Chief." Came the warning as Jim heard his partner mark his place in the book and reach for the phone.

"But it could be-"

"Could be what? Trouble?" And Jim smiled to Blair. "Every time we get a couple days of quiet, the phone rings or someone stops by and we end up in another adventure. It's always a problem of some sort. I'm tired of it."

Blair laughed at his partner. But in retrospect, the man was right. Every time the pair got more than 30 minutes (and sometimes less!) to relax, something happened.

"Damn fanfic writers..." Jim grumbled. "We never seem to get a chance to eat out or take in a movie, or finish a damn fishing trip without incident. We can't even go out for ice cream or aspirin without one of us getting shot at sometimes."

"We've had some good things..." Blair said defensively, a quick glance to the now silent phone. "What about all the great women in our lives? Didn't we get married a couple times? Have kids? Families? Even long lost relatives. We've travelled a lot, too. Canada, Disney, national parks - And how about all the cool things we've done with your senses? The information from all those incidents alone has given me data for another 10 tables and three more chapters."

"Yeah, Chief. I hear you now, but what about all the times someone killed you off?"

That warranted some thought. Blair couldn't keep track of all the times someone had killed him off, just for the chance to get Jim all smarmy and expose his feelings. And for that matter, just how many times had he been severely injured, or roughed up, or kidnapped... So he wasn't a former Ranger, but the anthropologist thought maybe he could take care of himself once or twice. And what about possibly switching things around and letting him get all smarmy ove Jim sometime... Maybe the big guy had a point.

Jim settled down into the couch again, absorbing the sun and sighing contentedly. Quiet was one of his favourite sounds. A big smile spread over his face as he heard Blair returning to reading.

Then the phone rang once more.

He tried to turn off his hearing, but his conscience wouldn't let him. Maybe it was Simon, or Cassie, or Brown or Carolyn. Hell, what if it was Naomi? Or Stephen? Or any of a dozen other people that counted Jim or Blair among their friends.

"You gonna get that?"

"But you just said..." the young man stammered.

"Oh, answer the damn phone, Sandburg." he said in a huff, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hello? ...Hey, Win. What's up? Us? Nothing, why? You're doing what? Painting?"

Jim chuckled remembering too many run-ins with paint.

"You're doing research on a painting! You're at work. Cool! What painting are you working on? Heads of Cabbage and Heads of State - yeah, I know the piece. Later? Hold on." Blair covered the reciever and turned to Jim. "Win's got a full beer tap and an empty house - her Ex has the little one for the weekend. Wants to know if we want to come over and fill the void."

Jim popped one eye open and gave his partner a lopsided grin while mulling over the offer. "Tell her if she makes that Forget-the-fire department-call-the-insurance-rep chili of hers, we'll bring the bread and see her in two hours."

Blair relayed the message and laughed as he turned to convey the reply. "She says the chili was made yesterday, and she'll see us in ONE hour. And bring our money, her palm is itching an she's in the mood for some poker."

"She's got a deal - so long as her buddy Becky isn't playing. I swear I'm gonna give her picture to Vice..."

"She's laughing." Blair commented, then listened some more, half responding and half relaying to Jim. "Huh? Bek's writing a grant proposal? Too bad. So, who's our fourth? Kelly's in from Debuque, huh. She did what? Changed her major again... Why does that not surprise me? Cool. Alright, we'll see you in an hour." And that said, he hung up the phone.

Wrenching his butt off the couch, Jim made his way towards the stairs to his room. "Gonna get a shower, Chief?"

"Got one earlier, when you went for Bagels. Just need to shave." And thinking, he yelled up to his partner. "Now there's a nice thing about the fanfic people. We've got a better hotwater heater in their world."

Coming down the steps, clean clothes in hand and a smile on his face, Jim ruffed Blair's curls as he passed by on his way to the bathroom. "True. Remind me to drop a couple hints while we're at Winnie's later. Maybe she can write us in a Caller ID."

"There's a thought." Blair agreed, then set the textbook on the coffee table and headed to get changed.

~Finis~