Title: TTHE SANDBURG ZONE
Author/pseudonym: PEJA
Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Paring: BLAIR/JIM
Rating: G
Status: NEW
Archive: Here I guess and my sites
E-mail address for feedback:: daltonavon@yaoo.com
Series/Sequel: don't know until the second one is born
Other websites: http://internetdump.com/users/daltonavon http://internetdump.com/users/daltonavon/PEJA.html
Disclaimers: Petfly doesn't love tehm. Scifi screwed them.. guess that makes them up for grabs....Consider them grabbed, but I'm willing to share...for a price
Notes: General fic is not the same. I don't know why. But it's harder to write platonic
Summary: Blair hates a deadline as much as I do.
Warnings: intense zanniness. This happens when I have to take baby (the comp) to the comp hospital...especially after losing one two weeks ago to a nasty killer virus
I do not give up my rights to these words. Don't do exculsive. But I'm willing to share.
"Dues," Blair murmured, his fingers flying over the laptop's keyboard. "Deadlines," he grumbled, striking the keys even faster. "Why, oh why couldn't I have been born in the fifteenth century." A crooked smile proceeded his soft chuckle. "Then all I'd have to woryy about is rescuing lady fairs in billowing layers of low cut cloth, slaying big scaley, fire-breathing dragons....That would make a nice change from the usual everyday mad bomber or the hourly bullet with my name on it." He grinned wistfully. "And the occasional joust with a black knight or two."
"You say something, cheif?" Jim asked from his comfortable slump on the sofa.
Blue eyes twickled as they sought the sentinel. The lazy smile erupted into a full explosive grin. "Hey, Jim. You look pretty good in black, don't you?"
A wary frown pulled at the big man's brows. "Black? Don''t follow you, chief."
"Yeah? Imagine that." he tapped out a couple more sentences then slanted another glance over his shoulder at his loft mate. "Ever been on a horse, Jim? A nice big Budwieser beer pulling type horse, not one of those dainty Arabian or pinto or walking horse types..."
"Horse?" The wary expression turned concerned. "Are you feeling okay, chief?"
"Feeling okay?" Blair asked, resuming his typing. "Hummm, yeah. Fine. Why do you ask?'
"Well...."
"Hey, Jim, where would a guy find chain mail around Cascade?" Blair interrupted, his fingers going a mile a minute.
Jim rocketed across the room. His big hand pattted forehead and cheeks, searching out a fever that wasn't there.
"Hey...?" Blair prtested. "Working here, man."
"Blair, I've been thinking." Jim said, leaning over to check his friend's eyes. "You've been working awful hard lately." his hand cupped Blair's ellbow, tugging. "Come on over to the sofa. Watch a little TV. Hey, I'll even let you drive the remote."
Blair slipped away. "Nope. Can't. Don't have time. Deadlines, man." he dove back into his project with zeal, totally ignoring the big man hovering over him.
After a bit, Jim gave up and wandered back to the sofa. He flopped down, scooping up the remote and went back to surfing throughthe channels like the pro he was.
A little while longer, Blair paused in his article and tillted a curious glance over at the man on the sofa.. "Drive? Did Jim say drive?"
Jim looked up, catching Blair watching him. "What did you say, chief?"
"You mentioned a drive, didn't you? Said I could drive? Toss me the keys, big guy. Where did you want to go, huh?"
"Keys?"
"For the truck, man." Blair held out his hand. "Keys, man. Drive. Road trip. You have lots of gas, right? I mean you did offer. Doesn't seem right I should have to provide the gas."
"Gas?"
"Yeah. Thought a nice ride out of Cascade and up the moutain to look at the stars might be nice. Maybe breath some fresh negative ions."
"Negative ions?"
"Lake country, Jim. Fresh air. Rippling Water." A sly smle tugged at Blair's generous lips. "An occasional dragon...."
"Dragon....?"
Blair chuckled. "I really think I'm gonna have to look for that black chain mail. A vest, at least."
"Vest...In chain mail...Blair..."
"Hey, black is a good look for you, Jim. Bullet-riddled red sucks, though." he reached over and shut down his laptop. "So, are we ready for that drive, big guy?"
"Jim nodded, dumb-founded. "Ride? yeah, sure. Anything to escape this particular bit of the Sandburg Zone."