1 Property Rights
The following characters surrounding the show 'The Sentinel' are the property of PetFly Productions and I am just borrowing them. Not making money, just having fun and filling creative needs...and yada yada...you get the picture. I did my doody.
Normally when James Ellison woke up it was to the enticing aroma of strong coffee drifting up to him in his room. He would unconsciously inhale deeply as the stimulant worked to clear his mind of the cobwebs that had taken up residence from the previous night's sleep. Soon the sounds of his roommate tinkering around in the kitchen would aid in driving away any chances of him catching a few more precious minutes of sleep. And eventually he would be forced to join the land of the living as he was lured downstairs with the promise of good food. Sadly that was not the case this Monday morning.
Jim rolled over in his bed and glared at the alarm clock for what felt like the fifth time in as many minutes. It still flashed the aggravating time at him in all it's glaringly green glory. "4:25," he said. Time had seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl ever since he had awoken from a rather disconcerting dream.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he let his bare feet touch the cool wood floor beneath him. There was no point laying in bed if sleep refused to return. With a weary sigh he scrubbed his hands over his face trying to shake the unnerving feeling still lingering from his dream. The memory of what he had dreamt of was quickly disappearing like wisps of smoke. The jaguar again...Jim rubbed at his face fiercely. Today was his day off. He had really been looking forward to sleeping in and waking only after Blair had made breakfast and all too cheerily announced his departure for the university.
At the thought of his younger roommate Jim cocked his head to the side and extended his senses to the room below. He growled, there was the slow and steady heartbeat of his guide sleeping peacefully in the room beneath his own. A twisted smile slipped across his face as he realized there really was no need for him to be jealous of his friend's undisturbed sleep. If Jim was up then he might as well make himself useful and make some breakfast for them. If the young man just so happened to be awoken by the sounds and smells of what he was doing in the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning that was simply an unfortunate side effect of living with a roommate who just so happened to have a different work schedule than he did.
A plan placed firmly in mind Jim donned his slippers, hopped out of the bed, and headed downstairs grinning at the loud slapping sounds the annoying shoes made with each step. The poor kid had no chance. If he was not going to have the ability to sleep in on his first day off in two weeks then he sure wouldn't be suffering through the injustice of it on his own.
Jim crossed the dining area and started noisily searching through the cabinets and drawers for the things he would need to make eggs Benedict. It was a rule of thumb and between the two of them that whoever woke first to make breakfast had the choice of making the meal they wanted. There would be no green algae shakes this morning or funky oatmeals supposed to enhance your health. He was going for good old fashioned comfort food. Noisy kitchen fare. A sure fire way to wake the dead or a graduate student for that matter.
He was only a few minutes into the cooking process when his hearing picked up the unmistakeable groan of despair from said outraged roommate which floated through the French doors and into the kitchen. That groan held so much frustration and had been so loud the Senior Detective and former army ranger was sure he would not have had to have super human hearing to have heard it. In fact he grinned as he slammed the refrigerator door shut, his own form of reply to his roommate, the dead could have been woken up by that clearly exaggerated groan.
Years of honing his sense of hearing gave him the advantage of easily picturing the cause of disgruntled sounds he was hearing emanating from his former storage room and office. He poured the milk into the skillet and hummed as he heard Blair fail to place his clock back on the night stand, cursing as it clattered noisily to the floor. The cord from the kid's clock knocked a stack of school papers to the floor and the sounds of Blair rushing to catch the mess before it was completely overturned and disorganized were instantly followed by the startled cry of his roommate crashing to the floor in a tangled heap of sheets, sleep paralyzed limbs, and papers.
Jim was sure that if his fellow detectives from major crimes ever found out what he was currently putting their lovable mascot through on his morning off he would have quite a few angry detectives reading him the riot act. And there was no doubt in his mind's eye that his coworkers would find out. Ever since Captain Banks had made the young man an official police consultant they had made it quite clear to Jim that they would expect him to take good care of the young genius who was now counted as one of their own. He may not have had the badge and gun but he had proven himself in the eyes of those men and women. And if Blair ran into any of Ellison's coworkers today looking like something the cat dragged in then they would be all over the young man like white on rice; ready to come to their friend's aid and mete out justice to whoever had dealt unkindly with him.
"Jim... I know you can hear me, man. Why, dear god, are you up this early?"
The hoarse way in which Blair whispered out to Jim from within his bedroom suddenly made him question whether his selfishly cruel behavior had been perhaps poorly timed. With a quick flick of the wrist the man had turned the range to simmer and crossed the kitchen to the kid's doorway. Since the door was partly opened he peeked his head inside and focused his keen eyes to see into the pitch black darkness of Blair's room. "Chief, you do realize you are still on the floor?" He watched as the mass of curly hair and afghan covers on the floor shifted to reveal an equally dark set of puffy blue eyes. "Been burning the midnight oil again, eh kid?" Jim took a moment to envision the dials which controlled his senses and turned up the one for hearing. He had gotten really good at scanning his young partner for signs of sickness and exhaustion. There were no signs of any of these but he knew with Sandburg appearances could be deceiving. His eyes compensated for the lack of light and found no fever flushed flesh. The momentary twinge of worry vanished and he reverted to his mischievous attitude and actions. "Times a wasting Sandburg. Up and at 'em, junior." He swung the French doors open wide to allow the light from the kitchen to flood the cluttered room within.
"Hsssssss..." Blair tried to retreat into his covers. "It's just not right."
"Wah-wah-wah, cry me a river. Breakfast is almost ready and unless you want cold congealed gravy over rock hard biscuits then I suggest you get up and out here asap." He watched as his younger roommate threw the covers off to clutch dramatically at his heart. He rolled his eyes and went back to cooking.
"I think my heart just seized, Jim. You trying to have a heart attack, or give me one?"
Out in the kitchen Ellison grinned victoriously, he had succeeded in waking his roommate. Blair had clearly given up any chance of getting some more sleep if he was alert enough to banter with him.
Jim made himself a plate and then waited for his partner to join him at the table. He heard rather than saw the grad student make a mad dash for the bathroom and promptly turned down his sense of hearing to give the man some privacy. The sound of the shower being turned on a few moments later though, had him calling out to his roommate to interrupt his priorities. 'Like hell is he gonna get all the hot water this morning,' he thought realizing what Blair might have had in mind as retribution for this morning's early wake-up call. "Shut it off, Sandburg! Breakfast first."
The sound of the shower turning off was followed by the bathroom door opening and a pair of suspicious blues eyes peering out into the dining area. Blair reluctantly abandoned his attempt at a shower for the interim and made his way into the kitchen. "Ooookay..."
When Blair shamelessly apportioned out a massive helping of breakfast for himself Ellison didn't even try to disguise his snort," You're so full of it; your eyes should be brown, Sandburg. What was all that about eating healthy?"
"Hey man, I eat well most of the time. This is a sometimes food for me. Now you..." Blair eased down into his chair at the table and started in on his food. "I weep for your arteries."
Jim smirked as he calculated the time it would take for him and Blair to finish off their breakfast. He was going to enjoy that hot shower first. With the food on his plate finished he grabbed his coffee mug and made as if he was going to pour himself another cup of joe. As a Sentinel he could hear the elevated heartbeat of the younger man nervously spike the moment he got up from his seat. As he walked past him towards the coffee maker the kid was clearly wary of his actions but apparently chose to believe him innocent in motives. Right before he would have turned to approach the counter Jim spun around and sprinted towards the bathroom. He could hear the clatter of Sandburg dropping his fork and rushing out of his seat to overtake him.
"Jim! I knew it you sneaky bas-" Blair came up short as the bathroom door slammed shut in his face.
"Ah-ah ah, Junior! Language..." Ellison leaned heavily against the door laughing at the imagined expression on his roommate's face. With a flick of his wrist he locked the door and went about getting undressed for a nice relaxing long hot shower. He could still hear Blair groaning angrily on the other side of the door.
"Man, you've got all day for a shower Jim. You're off today! I have an hour till I have got to be at the campus for my first class. Come on..."
The sound of a forehead thumping against the hard wood door could be heard from within and for a brief second Jim empathized with his best friend. He growled, shaking his head clear of the traitorous thoughts. "You know what they say about pay back, Junior." With that said he turned the dials for his sense of hearing down to drown out any further protest and slipped into the hot stream of water determined to enjoy the rest of his day.
Outside the restroom Blair kicked the base of the door in exasperation. He knew he had lost this war but the timing could not have been worse. Today was supposed to be Professor Stoddard's review of Blair's classroom curriculum with the hope for a referral for a possible stipend increase. He had wanted to be early or at the very least on time. Now the only way that would be possible was if he forwent a shower, or he chose to bear the frigid waters of a depleted water heater and its subsequent consequences. He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and relegated himself to starting off his day without a shower. Late autumn was not a time to be lowering his immune system in addition to the strains an academic schedule already put on his exhausted body. Appetite lost, Blair retreated to his room tucked beneath the loft and stairs and started getting ready for his classes.
'He just had to be in a kidding mood today...' that gave him pause for thought. His Sentinel's behavior did seem to be a bit off this morning having considered the week they had.
Most of the Bull Pen had been putting major overtime into trying to track down a novice terrorist bomber who had been targeting homeless shelters all over the city. Though the bomber had done little more than obliterate two fortunately vacant shelters he had proved considerably difficult to track down. After a week of hard work and hours spent hitting the streets in search of their prime suspect, the diligent work of the men and women of the Major Crimes Division had finally paid off.
A little under 48 hours ago Ellison had caught their bomber in the process of shopping for the supplies for his next target. Hours of paperwork later, mostly filled out by yours truly, and the lead Detective had finally been ordered home for some hard earned rest. Which really left Blair wondering how the man had so much energy as to be up at, 'unbelievable, 5am?'
Before the grad student could make a mental note to question his friend on the matter his cell phone alarm went of alerting him to having only half an hour left till he was supposed to be at the university. Blair Sandburg finished gathering the reports he had spent most of the night grading and shoved them into his backpack. With one final glance at the bathroom door he hurried out of the place he had called home for the last three years and rushed to meet his students for class. For once he was grateful to leave the Loft behind and what had surely been a stressful start to his week.