By: Monica Massey
Disclaimer: O.K., you know the score. I don't own them, they are not my creation. I just like to play with them (Who doesn't). I don't make any money, so please don't sue.
Dedication: This one is for Nancy (see I am writing). Thanks for your friendship. I know this isn't the biggie I've promised, but its something.
Six days, it was hard for Jim to believe, but it had been six days since his partner had slept. They had tried everything they could think of, but nothing had worked. Blair just couldn't relax. At first it had been hard for Jim to understand what was bothering the kid. Then he realized what was wrong. For the last two weeks Major Crimes had been, well for lack of better words, dead. There had been only one new case this week and it had been solved the same day. The kid was just extremely bored, having actually decided to take a few weeks off during the semester break to work exclusively with Jim. The lack of school work, and police work, were getting to his friend.
As Jim laid there listening to the young man pacing back and forth, down stairs, he thought back to their discussion at dinner two nights ago. All you had to do was look at the kid to see he was exhausted both mentally and physically. It was the dark circles under his guides eyes that gave Jim the push to bring up the subject of sleeping pills. 'Chief, why not try one of those sleep aids?' He asked.
'No way man, I'm not putting that stuff into my system. Insomnia is nothing new to me man. I just have to wait it out.' Blair had replied.
Jim had purchased a bottle the next day and placed them in the medicine cabinet, just in case Blair changed his mind. He even caught Blair starring at the bottle longingly that afternoon, but the kid never caved in.
Jim made up his mind that if Blair hadn't slept, by tomorrow afternoon, he was going to the doctor. That thought gave Jim enough peace to allow himself to try to drift off to sleep. Instead his thoughts turned to something he had heard Ryf saying about his little girl. Jim's eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed. Maybe they hadn't tried everything.
He dressed quickly and ran down stairs nearly running over Blair. "Come on Chief, we're going out." Jim said. Not stopping, he grabbed Blair's arm and pulled him to the door. Jim paused long enough to pick up his keys and lock to door behind them.
"Jim????" came Blair's startled cry as he was ushered into the elevator. "Hey man, don't most places require shoes?" He asked, wiggling his toes.
Jim looked at his friend, Blair was dressed in a tee shirt, sweat pants, and was barefoot. "No, you're fine Chief." Jim replied.
Blair gave the older man a strange look but said nothing. Maybe this was some strange Sentinel thing Blair wasn't aware of, dragging one's guide out at midnight, without allowing him to dress.
They had been driving around Cascade for nearly twenty minutes before Blair thought to ask. "Where are we going?"
"Around." Jim replied.
Blair thought the response was a little vague, but didn't question it. His head was leaning against the cool glass of the passenger side window and he was drifting off to sleep.
Jim heard the change in his partners breathing and glanced over at his friend. He couldn't believe it, this was actually working. Slowing at a red light Jim prepared to head back to the loft. At the loss of motion Blair began to stir, once they were moving again the young man's breathing returned to a steady rhythm.
Jim saw the interstate sign ahead and, without a second thought, he merged into the nighttime traffic. After everything the kid did for him on a day to day basis he could surely drive around for a few hours. The 'few' hours turned into eight before Jim realized it.
This time Blair didn't budge when Jim parked the truck in front of the loft. Quietly Jim opened the passenger side door and unfastened Blair's seat belt. Gently he lifted his friend and headed inside. After placing Blair in bed, Jim covered him with a blanket then turned to close the blinds, shutting out the morning sun. Jim smiled at the innocent expression on his guides face, he looked so much like a child when he slept. Leaving the room, Jim turned the ringer off on the phone and made sure the doors were locked before heading upstairs to his own bed.
Finally laying down for a much needed nap of his own, Ellison smiled. He would have to tell Ryf that his little trick worked on anthropologists as well as it did on babies.
The End