Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Smarm
Summary: Some things really are forever -- just ask Jim and Blair. Very short warm-fuzzies piece.
I wrote this about five months ago and decided to dust it off and post it. Hope you enjoy it!
~ Blair's POV ~
"... so there I was, stuck in the line from hell at the campus bookstore with this talkative math major going off on the significance of that sideways "8" -- you know, the symbol for infinity..." I gesture with one wet hand, rolled-up blue and white plaid sleeves exposing my bare forearms. I grin in spite of myself, realizing the comical side of the mildly rueful frustration I felt this afternoon.
Then it occurs to me that there has been no response to my story save a short grunt. And that was about five minutes ago.
I glance over at the man standing beside me in front of the kitchen sink, the side filled with bubbles, his long sleeves also rolled up to above the elbows. I swallow hard, forcing myself to stuff a giggle back down where it came from. Jim has the most intense look of concentration on his face, his hands gripping the plate and holding it about five inches from his focused blue eyes and set jaw -- and scrubbing at a particular spot on the plate's perimeter as though his life depends on it. Wordlessly, I observe as the sentinel pauses his scrubbing momentarily, passing sensitive suds-covered fingers slowly over the spot. With another clench of the jaw, he resumes his scrubbing. I grin affectionately at my oblivious friend -- his fervor tickles my funny bone as it has so many times before.
Silence except for more scrubbing.
"JIM!" This time I emphasize my words with a friendly nudge.
"Huh?" His blue eyes fly open more widely, appearing somewhat startled as he looks at me. The scrubbing stops.
"Gimme the plate, Jim," I say gently, taking it from him before he has a chance to protest. "Betcha zoned doing dishes even before your senses came back online, didn't you?," I tease, holding the plate under the faucet to rinse off the soap.
"But it had a spot..." my partner objects as I place the last dish in the rack to air-dry.
"Five minutes ago, man. Anything still left on that plate after you're done with it has earned the right to a peaceful existence," I proclaim, tossing Jim the hand towel to dry with. "I just remembered I forgot my book on the roof where I was reading this afternoon. I'm gonna go get it."
Jim nods in acknowledgment as I leave the kitchen. I hear him muttering as I close the door. "What do you mean 'spots have a right to exist'? Not on my dishes, they don't..."
~ Jim's POV ~
The moment I open the door and step onto the roof, I know why Blair didn't come down more quickly with his book. Golden rays of pink, blue, and purple paint the sky in a sunset so glorious it takes my breath away, and the evening air caresses us with a small hint of spring warmth. The beautifully colored horizon meets the sparkling waters of the bay, merging together in a seamless tapestry. And in the middle of it all stands my friend, Blair Sandburg, looking out toward the west, soaking in the surrounding splendor -- the perfect complement to nature's atmospheric canvas.
Thoughts of the plate forgotten, I quietly make my way across the roof top to stand next to Blair's left shoulder. I notice how my partner's hands are shoved in his pants pockets, the color of his eyes intensified by the blueness of the pre-twilight sky. A passing, gentle breath of air tousles his long curls, then it is gone. For a few minutes, we stand together silently.
When Blair finally speaks, his voice is soft. "Nothing's forever, is it?" He continues to look out toward the horizon, as if searching for an answer impossible to find. "Everything's always changing. Good things and bad things -- they all have their end. People die. This sunset'll fade into night. That girl in the bookstore finally paid for her books and shut up..."
"And we finally finished that huge stack of dishes Brown and Rafe and Megan and Simon and Joel dirtied," I finish.
"Yeah," Blair chuckles quietly. He pauses, turning to look up at me. I smile down on him with a gentle, warming grin, and Blair's smile tells me I've made him feel good inside, as if I have a special smile just for him. Maybe I do.
Remembering his statement about nothing being forever, the practical part of me reflexively agrees with his logic. "A lot of things in my life were supposed to be permanent, but they didn't turn out that way." A memory from my past rushes forth and I remember the words I spoke several years ago when I got married. Painfully, I also remember how things didn't work out the way I'd planned.
Blair nods, looking at me as if he knows what I'm thinking. "The way I grew up, nothing was supposed to be permanent. I still remember my mom saying, 'I know it's hard to say goodbye, but we can't stay here forever. There's so much to see and do in the world! You'll make new friends...'"
"I guess that's why we have to enjoy things while we have them," I offer as my eyes meet Blair's.
He goes on, looking out toward the bay again. "Sometimes I think infinity is just a concept for math majors."
"Chief," I speak softly as I put my arm around his shoulder, "that's where you're wrong."
He turns to face me. He looks deeply at me again, his inquisitive, eager personality shining through his blue eyes. "What do you mean, Jim?"
"Our friendship is forever," I answer. We grin at each other, and I reach my arm around Blair's shoulder.
Blair smiles. "I know," he says softly. He pauses, then looks up at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Four years ago I never would've believed you could be so sentimental, man."
I chuckle. "Four years ago I never would've let somebody take a plate from me that still had a spot on it," I grumble, but I can't help but grin widely as I say the words. In return, Blair laughs that wonderfully pure, infectious laugh that will always be among this sentinel's most favorite sounds.
For a few long moments, we stand together, enjoying the coming of the deep blue-purple twilight sky and the first stars. I sigh with contentment. Life is uncertain, but I know that no matter what happens, we will always live on in each other's hearts. Our friendship really is forever, and nothing can change that. In this way, we are immortal.
As we finally turn to leave the roof, our arms draped lazily around each other's shoulders, Blair giggles. "I thought of something else that's forever, Jim."
"What's that, Chief?" I ask.
"That spot," he answers mischievously.
"Think again, Sandburg," I retort. "If you don't stop reminding me, I'll make you scrub that plate until I can't feel it. How long do you think that will take?"
He laughs again, and I can see his eyes dancing in the faint starlight. "Forever..."
Forever was just a word
Something I'd only heard about
But now you're always there for me
When you say forever
(excerpted from the song Destiny by Jim Brickman, Dane Deviller, and Sean Hosein)
- The End -