Title: Going Postal

Author: Katz

Summary: Just what the title says..

Archive: Orion's Site

Beta'd: Nope

"JIM!!"

Jim sat up in bed, automatically reaching for the gun on his side table. He leaned over the railing of his room and looked down to see his partner standing on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

"What the h-" Jim muttered quietly.

"Get your butt dressed and get it down here now!" Blair interrupted angrily and glared up at the half awake man. "We are leaving in 5 minutes."

"My bu- fiv-Sandburg!" Jim gave up trying to reason through his partners statement and stood up, intending to go downstairs and see if he could navigate through the Sandburg Zone.

"Don't even think about it." Jim looked up in surprise as the cold voice rang through the loft. His partner could be described as bouncy, energetic, intelligent, witty, and a damn good liar...but never as cold. He was pretty much the antithesis of cold. But that voice...Jim shuddered as he walked over to the railing. Blair had gotten down off the coffee table and was standing almost directly below the loft railing.

"Don't screw with me, Jim. Get dressed." Blair's eyes matched his voice, their normal brightness freezing eerily.

Jim scoffed, his little academic partner wasn't going to stare him down. He was Jim Ellison.

//stare//

Covert Ops Guy

//stare//

Army Ranger

//stare//

Detective

//stare//

Sentinel

//stare//

And he was going to get dressed.

Jim wasn't sure what Blair's deal was this morning, but that stare was...wrong. Just wrong. And if he had to get dressed to find out what was going on...then he would just get dressed. It wasn't that his partner had intimidated him...nope, not that at all.

3 minutes later found Jim coming down the steps warily. His partner had retreated to his room and Jim couldn't make out any words, just rustling of clothes and pages. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the rack to pour himself a cup of coffee. It was only by a stroke of luck and lighting fast reflexes that he didn't drop the mug as something came hurtling at his head.

He looked at the object and was surprised to see a insulated travel mug. Furrowing his brow, he looked up and saw his roommate eyeing him from across the room.

"You want coffee, I presume?" Jim's sarcastic tone had no effect on his partner.

"No. It's for you. No time for mugs. Drink it on the go." Sandburg spoke in short sentences, his voice never raising or gaining warmth as he crossed the room. Picking up Jim's keys from the basket he turned. "Get in the truck. I'm driving."

Jim stood in shock, staring at the partially opened door his partner had just walked through. He shook himself out of his stupor, dropping the mug and racing for the door. "What do you mean, 'you're driving'?"

****

Jim sat quietly in the passenger seat of the truck, staring at his partner. In any normal situation Jim would be glaring at his partner right now. But this was not normal. In fact, Jim would be happy to see any form of normal right now. But until then...

"So Chief, where are we going?" Jim winced as Sandburg took a corner sharply. Surely, he thought, I don't drive this bad! "Chief?"

"Post Office"

Jim waited for the rest of the sentence but none came. That was it? Post Office?

"Well, that explains nothing. Why are we going to the Post Office? Why are you mad? Why the hell are you driving my truck? And why am I asking you so many questions?"

Blair turned to look at Jim, the ice cold eyes freezing Jim in his place. Jim opened his mouth to speak and gasped at the truck blocking the intersection. With a scant look through the windshield, Blair wrenched the wheel to the right, propelling the truck onto the sidewalk and around the corner. Jim grabbed at the dashboard and braced his foot against the floor. With a final thump the truck hit the road and they continued on.

"We need to. I'm not. I wanted to. You're stupid." Blair's calm voice startled Jim and he racked his mind to make sense of the answers.

"I'm not stupid!"

Blair screeched the truck to a halt and threw open his door. Before Jim could move, Blair was on the sidewalk, waiting for him. "I'm sorry. You're not stupid. Let's go."

Jim moved out of the truck quickly and followed Blair into a large gray building with the sign of the United States Post Office on it's doors. Taking a moment adjusting his sight to the dim interior, Jim searched out his guide. Hearing a commotion, he followed the progress of his guide as he swept past the people waiting in line and marched directly to the counter. Jim quickly jogged past the angry people, apologizing vaguely. He reached his guide to hear the end of an argument.

"...and he's a cop so you better not pull any of the shady stuff with him." Blair turned and pushed Jim forward slightly.

Jim turned and looked over his shoulder, but the only encouragement that Blair gave was a shooing motion. He shrugged and turned back to look at the man behind the counter.

"Um..hello. My name is Jim Ellison. This man is m"

"He's nuts, that's what he is! I was just trying to help him and he went all crazy on me!" The short man behind the counter was yelling rather loudly and Jim rubbed his ear at the grating noise.

"Calm down, he's not nuts. Why don't you just tell me what's going on?" Jim held his hands up, adopting his best, 'placating-officer-tone'. "Chief?"

"I came here to mail a book to a student of mine. He bought it off of me and I had to ship it to him. He lives about an hour and half away and this guy;" Blair pointed angrily over the counter and the clerk stepped back quickly. "said there was no way for me to mail this without doing it through airmail! I mean come on!"

Jim turned back to look at the clerk, his eyebrows raised. "Is that true, sir?"

The clerk gulped audibly. "um..yes. He wanted to mail it to Canada. It's another country. We have to ship it by airmail to get it there within this month. Otherwise it could take well over 30 days to-"

"30 days?! God, Chief, where are you mailing this?" Jim whirled to meet the eyes of his partner.

"Aldergrove"

"But that's like 90 minutes aw-Oh." Jim nodded at his guides problem and turned to the grinning clerk. "And how much is this airmail?"

"The total comes to $58.01."

"Fifty-Eight dollars?!"

"And one cent, Sir." The clerks smug tone was too much for Blair and he leapt past Jim, reaching over the counter for the clerk. Jim grabbed his partner around the waist and pulled, dragging him to the floor.

"Chief, calm down. I'll settle this."

"Thank you officer." The clerk looked relieved and Jim flashed him an impatient grin.

"Jim!! I was here for over an hour trying to mail this." Blair's voice had lost the ice cold quality and developed something very akin to a whine." I had to fill out three forms, two address labels, and speak to this piece of government waste. Then he called security to check through the contents of my package just because I pissed him off! Just shoot him!"

"What?!" Jim and the clerk echoed.

"Don't kill him or anything just graze him or something. Ooh! Or stop the blood flow to his arms! I know you can do that." Blair redirected his statement to the cowering clerk. "He *can* do that y'know. He was in the army. Covert Ops and everything."

Jim eyed the nervous clerk before stepping in front of his partner. "Chief, I'm not going to shoot the postal worker."

"You don't want to?" Blair's voice held disappointment.

"Hey, you know me. Any way to get back at the feds and I would. Nothing would make me happier then scaring the stamps out of this guy but.."

"So you're not going to?"

"No. He's a federal employee and you know what happens when you shoot a federal employee, don't you?"

Blair sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Yeah, the FBI will come and yell at you. Again."

"And you remember what happened the last time the FBI came to yell at me, don't you?"

"Yes." Blair's sighs were getting louder.

"And do we want that to happen again? We're just now getting the blood stains off the loft floor." Jim ignored the strangled noise from behind the counter.

"Okay, okay. You don't have to shoot him." Blair smiled up at his sentinel as Jim ruffled his hair.

"Thanks, Sandburg. Now go apologize to the civil servant."

The two partners turned back to the counter and saw empty air. Glancing at each other they peered over the edge and saw a frantic women fanning their clerks face.

"What happened, Ma'am?" The lady looked up to meet Jim's gaze.

"I-I don't know. I just heard a thump and he passed out. I don't know what happened."

Blair and Jim glanced at each other and shrugged. "He should take more breaks. Probably tired."

Blair nodded. "Maybe he needs to eat something. I had a friend once who passed out whenever he missed a few meals."

"Too bad. His boss should make sure he has more breaks." Jim placed a hand on his partners back and led him out of the post office. They were both silent until they were buckled in the truck, with Jim in the drivers seat.

"Uh, Jim. I never mailed my package?"

As one the two of them looked down at the package sitting between them on the seat and then up at the post office door. Meeting each others gazes, Jim pulled the truck into traffic.

2 hours later

"Mr. Sandburg! You didn't have to drive all the way here!" the smiling student hugged the book to his chest. He looked at his teacher and then the tall man leaning against the blue and white pickup in the driveway.

"Not a problem, man." Blair turned to look at his partner. "It's not that big a deal."

"Thanks so much, Professor!" Blair turned to step off the porch but was halted by his student's last statement. "But you could have just mailed it...."