It's Not What You Think
"Hey Jim, I'm home," Blair called out as he opened the door to the loft. He stopped suddenly in shocked dismay as he looked around the cluttered floor of the loft. Moving boxes?!? What the… "Jim?"
Scritch, pop.
Jim came out of Blair's room with another cardboard box taped shut. "Chief? What are you doing here?" he asked as he placed the box he was carrying on top of another box. "You're not supposed to be home for another two days."
"Jim!" Blair wailed. "What's going on?"
"Are you feeling okay, Chief?" Jim asked worriedly. "Are you sick? Did something happen at the conference? I don't smell any blood." Jim walked around the piles of boxes to get to his roommate. He started patting him down looking for injuries.
When Jim felt Blair's forehead for fever, Blair had had enough. He swatted at Jim's hand and bellowed. "What – The – Hell – Is – Going – On - Here?!"
"Chief?" Jim started.
"Oh Shit! What did you eat? Were you exposed to some sort of chemical or drug? Is there another Sentinel in town? That's it, isn't it? There's another Sentinel in town. Crap." Blair waved his arms frantically in the air. "We are not going to go through this again." He put his hands on his hips and glared at his partner and friend. "I'm not going any where," he defiantly stated, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Chief," Jim tried again.
"No way in hell, Jim. You can't get rid of me that easily this time. I'm staying put." He sat down on the floor in front of the door and assumed his best 'peaceful protest' pose and glared at his roommate.
“Chief… Blair, it's not what you seem to think. I was just…" he was interrupted again, this time by the doorbell. "Great, they're early."
Jim took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He moved over next to Blair and put his arms around Blair's chest, then with a grunt and a muttered "and you give me a hard time about Wonderburger" he lifted his partner and carried him over to the sofa.
Blair sat with shocked disbelief over the strength his friend had just displayed. Before that feeling had a chance to dissipate, it was joined by confusion and then, finally sheepish comprehension. He sank back into the cushions of the couch in embarrassment. I forgot all about that. He shook his head. Could I have made any bigger fool of myself?
He watched as the delivery men brought in the new modular shelves Jim had gotten him for his birthday. Jim had been frustrated that they couldn't be delivered in time for Blair's birthday. Some sort of problem with backordered pieces. Blair hadn't really paid attention at the time. He'd reassured Jim that it was that thought, or in this case the gift, that counted, not when it arrived.
After the delivery men left, Jim walked over to his roommate and offered him a beer. "Sorry, Chief. They called me last week and said it was finally ready. I knew you were going to be at that conference and so I thought I would surprise you and have it all set up when you got home," he paused then added, "I didn’t mean to stir up any bad memories."
Blair grinned at his partner. "I forgot all about the shelves. So what's the deal with the boxes? You should have just put stuff in piles and then moved the piles back after the shelves were in place."
Jim shuddered in mock dismay. "But then everything would be jumbled all over the loft. This way they are in nice, tidy boxes. Boxes that stack and can be moved around as needed. Much better this way," he said as he dusted his hands together. "Well, since you're home early, you can help me put all this stuff back in your room. Grab the dust clothes. It's been forever since some of this stuff has been dusted." Jim grabbed a box and headed back toward Blair's room.
Blair stood up and looked fondly around the box cluttered room. "Home sweet home," he whispered as he headed of to help his roommate.
The end.
Author's notes: I'm
moving to
Feedback is appreciated. Cheryl