Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Everyday Life Series
Summary: Too little sleep and a disrupted evening plane trip leave Blair a little less than coherent. Companion to Fairy Dust: Blair.
For Hephaistos: For reasons she knows. ~grin~
Notes: General smarm warning. Any airport/airplane stuff in here is purely from my imagination.
Fairy Dust: Jim
Jim jerked awake when the chain on the loft door rattled below him. While one hand automatically reached under his pillow for his gun, he sat up slightly, stretching out his hearing -- and picked up the quiet mumblings of his roommate. Jim glanced at his watch in the darkness -- past 2 a.m. -- and frowned as he shoved the comforter away. Blair should be in San Francisco, sleeping at the conference hotel, not here, trying to break into his own home.
Jim released the gun and grabbed his robe from the end of the bed. Below him, he heard the door bang open and rattle again, then a few soft muttered swear words, followed by what sounded like Blair hitting his forehead against the heavy door. He slipped on the soft gray robe as he quickly jogged down the stairs, eyes adjusting to the lack of light easily.
Blair's quiet plaintive voice wafted toward him finally. "Jiiimmm..."
Must've finally realized the chain was on.
"Just a sec, Chief. I'm coming." Jim crossed the distance to the door and gently closed it, quickly undoing the chain before opening it again.
Blair stood just outside the door, one shoulder pressed against the wall, leaning on it, head down, hair loose around his face. "Sorry to wake you, Jim." His backpack hung over his other shoulder.
Jim grasped Blair's shoulder and pulled him inside. "What are you--?" He stopped, then looked back into the hallway, sticking his head out to take a quick look. "Where's your stuff?" Pulling back inside and closing the door, Jim glanced at Blair over his shoulder. The younger man hadn't moved from where Jim had released him just in front of the door.
"My stuff?" Blair shrugged. "Don't know. Airport, plane, Pacific Ocean, China, Never-Never Land, don't know." His shoulders slumped and his backpack slid to the floor with a muffled thump.
After finishing relocking the doors, Jim turned back to Blair, still frowning. He laid his hand on Blair's shoulder, running his thumb over it. "Chief, what're you doing back here? You're supposed to be in San Francisco. What happened?"
Jim had taken his roommate (his very exhausted roommate after two nights of stakeouts, plus a day of classes) to the airport just a few hours ago to catch a late evening flight to San Francisco for an anthropology conference. Jim had stayed long enough to see Blair get checked in, then had come back home. He had an early court date that morning and Blair had told them there was no point in him sitting at the airport with Jim watching his tired roommate try not to doze off in the airport seats until the plane left.
Blair squinted up at Jim through bleary eyes. "Hmm? Oh, what happened...uh..." With an effort, Blair shook free of some of the tiredness and straightened a little. "We took off, got halfway there, then we...we turned around. Came back here. Plane was grounded. Told us all the flight was canceled, no other flights leaving until tomorrow..." Blair paused to yawn and rub at his eyes before continuing, "....Or later today, whatever, so sorry, go home, have a nice day." He yawned again, wavering a little on his feet. "Didn't wanna stay there. Took a taxi home."
Shaking his head, Jim pulled the leather jacket from Blair's shoulders and hung it up. "Why didn't you call, Blair? I could've come to get you."
Curls rustled quietly as Blair shook his head. "No. Didn't want to wake you. Knew you had a...a...thing tomorrow. Important." He paused and frowned in bewilderment. "Did I wake you? Sorry, sorry."
Withholding an amused grin, Jim draped an arm over Blair's shoulders and drew him to his side. Slowly he steered Blair across the loft main floor toward the asleep-on-his-feet man's bedroom. "Did they say why they came back?" The backpack remained ignored and forgotten on the floor behind them.
Leaning heavily into Jim, Blair shook his head. "Nah. Something...technical, political, ecological, nautical, whimsical, mythical, who knows? Maybe some air sprite or Tinkerbell or somebody told them to go back." He chuckled weakly.
A smile painted on his face, Jim shoved the french doors open and led Blair inside. "You are well and truly out of it, aren't you, Sandburg?" He pulled the covers down on the bed and sat Blair down on it.
Blair grinned goofily up at him. "Yep. Gone, gone, gone. Was gonna sleep on the plane. Too much bumpy stuff and babies squalling."
Jim crouched down in front of Blair and pulled off his shoes. "Well, if you would sleep regular hours like normal people, you know, like every night, maybe you wouldn't have to do this 'catching up' business."
"Normal, Jim?" Blair cackled. "What's normal?" He turned sideways and flopped backwards on the bed, his arms outstretched, his head just barely missing the headboard. "Do I know any normal people, Jim?"
Laughing softly, Jim sat on the edge of bed and pulled Blair back up again. "Probably not. Come on, work with me here. Let's get this flannel shirt off and then you can sleep. I don't think I want to try to wrestle with any other clothes tonight."
Within minutes, the flannel shirt was off and draped over the nearby chair. Blair, in his t-shirt, chinos, and socks, was flat on the bed, watching Jim through slitted eyelids as he pulled the quilt up around him.
Blair reached over the covers and touched Jim's hand for a moment. "Thanks, man."
Jim put his other hand over Blair's and leaned down to briefly press his forehead to Blair's. "Anytime, buddy. But next time, you call. Okay?"
Eyes closing, Blair smiled and whispered, "'Kay." In moments, he was asleep, even before Jim had straightened up.
Chuckling and shaking his head, Jim stood. He smoothed the covers, pulling them higher up to Blair's shoulders, then padded quietly out of the room. Pausing a moment to scan the loft, he nodded to himself that all was well, then returned up the stairs to his own bedroom.
Jim settled into bed, sighing quietly, listening as Blair murmured for a second about fairy dust, then drifted back to sleep again, shifting under the warm quilt. Chuckling quietly to himself, Jim closed his eyes, relaxing into sleep, but not before making a mental note to ask Blair just what he'd been eating or what he'd been reading in the airport.
Air sprites and fairy dust indeed...
- The End -