TITLE: I LOVE SANDBURG: OUT OF THE CLOSET

AUTHOR: PEJA

FANDOM: THE SENTINEL

PAIRING: JIM/BLAIR

RATING: PG-13

SUMMARY: Blair is upset by Jim's relaxing clothes

SERIES: You decide

DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me, but I keep 'em around cuz their cute

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Garrett said he wanted to do something with Richard that had an I Love Lucy theme...He wants to be Lucy. Who am I to argue

EMAIL: daltonavon@yahoo.com

FEEDBACK: No feedback, no more to the Shades Of Lucy series.

WEBSITE: http://internetdump.com/users/daltonavon/PEJA.html

ARCHIVE: Only be request. I like to know where it goes

PASS ALONG TO OTHER LISTS: Same thing, ask first

"Jim. Hey, Jim. Are you ready yet? Simon and Darrel will be here any minute."

"Down in a minute, Sandburg." Came from the upstairs bedroom.

Blair hop-skipped to the bottom of the stairs. "You are dressing up, right, Jim? I mean what you've been wearing lately...well let's just say street person throw aways, ya know?"

Jim bounded down the stairs dressed in a torn and tattered sweat suit. "Don't know what you mean, Darwin,"

Blair's hand shook as he pointed up and down the frame of the man he loved. "That. That is what I mean. It looks like you got it out of the rag bin, man."

Jim tugged at his sleeve. "Yeah?" He smoothed down the ratty shirt with a loving hand. "Well, I did. Don't know how my favorite I-fucked-Sandburg-for-the-first-time sweats ended up there. Had a hell of a time hunting them down. Finally found 'em through the old super sniffer" He tapped the side of his nose, grinning.

Blair shook his head. "Note to myself," he grumbled. "Next time, burn 'em"

Jim stopped preening himself, glancing over his shoulder at the distraught anthro. "You say something?"

"Jim, this really sucks. I'm not going to the movies with a man who looks like a reject from the Salvation Army safehouse." He pointed imperiously to the stairs. "Change. And dress up, for Christ's sake. No more of these crazy outfits."

"I like this outfit, Sandburg."

"Fine." Blair threw his hands in the air. "Fine, hope you enjoy the show, man. I'll be here when you get home."

"You're not coming?"

"Not if you insist on wearing," He waved Jim up and down. "That."

Jim sighed and turned toward the stairs. "I'll change."

Blair grinned and would have said something but was distracted by someone knocking at the door. "Hurry up, Jim. They're here."

Blair hurried to the door and opened it, stepping back as Darrel walked in.

"Ready for the movie, Blair."

"Oh yeah, can't wait. This one is supposed to be really great. Rave reviews from the critiques.

Darrel nodded. "I know. Can't believe dad agreed to take me. He isn't exactly into the scifi action flicks. hey, where's Jim. We're going to miss the opening credits if we don't get going."

"He'll be down in a minute. I convinced him to wear something nice."

"You got him to dress up? I don't believe it. Tell me how you did it."

Blair grinned. "I think I might have a bit of an edge with him, Darrel."

"I wish I could get one over dad," Darrel grumbled.

"Wha....? Why?"

Simon appeared in the door, answering the question. He was wearing an outfit that rivaled Jim's favorite comfortable sweat and looking happy as a lark.

Jim, standing at the top of the stairs, made a sputtering sound. "How come Simon can dress comfortable and I have to wear something like this?" he demanded, indicating his dress shirt and slacks.

"Because you love me and want to please me?" Blair tried, but he was speaking to the air. Jim had vanished back into the dark recesses of the loft bedroom only to reappear minutes later in the sweats Blair hated.

*************

"Blair?" Darrel called from downstairs. "Blair, you here?"

"Come on up, I'm in the loft."

Darrel galloped up the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. Clothes were flying at a vicious pace from the closet accompanied by "Goodwill, Goodwill. Goodwill. Possible. Goodwill. Oh, this I forgot, mmmmm a keeper."

"Blair, what are you doing?" Darrel asked peeking around the door only to sway back as more shirts and jeans hurtled past his head.

"Hmmmm? Oh, hi Darrel. What's up?"

Darrell chanced another peek, grinning at his friend who sat in a puddle of ratty clothes. "What are you up to, Blair?"

Blair looked up at him, tongue in cheek. "Cleaning. Jim likes it when I clean up the place."

Darrell chuckled. "He lets you clean out his closet?"

"Clean out is the right word for it, Dar." Blair waved a hand encompassing the sea of cloth around him,. "Look at these. Not a single decent bit in the whole thing. Well, except this." He tugged on the black shirt draped around his neck."

"So what are you gonna do with the stuff. You know he'll just sniff it out again."

"Thought about burning it." Blair shrugged. "But I think I'm gonna take it down to the goodwill. they can use this stuff for something or other."

"Jim is gonna kill you. You know that, don't you?"

Blair looked his young friend in the eye. "It'll be worth it."

*********

Blair jumped a bit guiltily when Jim exploded into the loft. "What a day. What a day. What a god damn fucking day I've had." Jim wandered into the kitchen and rested a hip against the counter, watching Blair chop the vegetables for a stir fry.

"So, ah..how was you're day, Jim?" Blair asked. "Oh damn, that was so not what I should have said."

"Do you ever listen to me, Blair?"

Blair finally looked up from his preparations. "Sure I do."

"Right, and then you just go ahead and do whatever I say not to, don't you?"

"Hey now, you never once said I shouldn't...." Blair paused, frowning. "What are we talking about here, Jim?"

"Got a strange phone call at work today."

Blair felt the hairs at the back of his neck start to rise up. "A phone call?"

"Yeah. Seems I forgot to put some important papers back in my billfold the other day."

Blair latched onto his bottom lip with sharp teeth. "Important papers, huh? I take it some kind soul found them and called you about it. Huh, that was nice of them"

"Very."

"Jim, hmmmm, I'm kinda busy here. Can we talk about your rotten day later?"

Jim captured the nervous anthro with both arms around him, hands resting on the counter. "You gave my cloths to goodwill, Blair. All my clothes."

"It was for your own good, man. I just....."

"Blair, I swear by all that's holy..."

"Come on, man. You got them back. You did get them back, right?"

A slow nod.

"Then it's all right then, right? I mean you can't throw me out over a few ragged clothes, right? Especially after you got them back."

Jim smiled. "You owe me, Blair. You owe me big."

Blair swallowed hard. "Owe you?"

Jim nodded, fingering Blair's shirt collar. "I have always hated flannel. Plaid just makes it worse."

"Oh, now wait a minute, Jim. I need those shirts. I'll freeze. I'll die. I"ll...come on man. I'll stay out of your closet, if you'll stay out of mine. Swear it."

Jim leaned in to brush his lips against Blair's. "Blair mine, I'm already out of the closet....with you."