Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Missing Scenes Collection
Summary: A missing scene all about a certain video. Spoilers for True Crime.
Yes, me iss bery, bery bad procrastinator (stop snickering, Becky), but me finally choose dis episode for a response to the Guide Posts Missing Scene Challenge, mostly because of great humor value. Nothing to do with extremely high bare skin score, no, no. No, no, me has never done anything remotely similar to Blair's actions in last scene... No iss midnight yet where I live, so hopefully still legal for Challenge, yes? Me no write missing scene before, so proceed at own risk ~grin~
Bad Hair, Nice Boxers
missing scene from True Crime
Guide Posts Missing Scene Challenge Response
The cacophonous slamming of the loft's front door echoed in the pre-warmed morning coolness of the apartment.
Jaw clenching as he stalked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, boxer-clad Jim Ellison shouted the words, half-hoping that Miss Hawthorne and her cameraman were still standing outside the door or at least within earshot. "That -- that -- OBNOXIOUS woman! What the hell did she think she was doing, waking us up like that! The nerve! The next time I see her, I'll -- I'll --"
"Jim, please, shhh! You'll wake the neighbors!" hissed Blair as he followed him, trying to calm his obviously irate roommate. He reached out to touch Jim on the shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but at his touch Jim whirled around, almost smacking the younger man as he gestured wildly with a bare arm. Fortunately, Blair ducked the unintentional swing.
"That woman violated my privacy! Doesn't she have any manners?" Jim ranted as he roughly turned on the faucet and thrust the coffee pot underneath it to fill.
"Apparently not," mumbled Blair. She's probably short in the common sense area, too, he thought, wondering how anyone in their right mind would risk rudely awakening Detective Jim Ellison. If he knew his partner at all, the tall detective wasn't planning on stopping his verbal tirade anytime soon.
"If they mess up our cover at the sports collection store today, I'll -- I'll --"
"Whoa, whoa, Jim, let's not jinx ourselves with Murphy's Law just yet. After all, you're gonna keep them in the van the whole time, right? What could go wrong?"
"Chief!" Jim hollered, pressing a pointed index finger into Blair's chest. "Never, NEVER say that, you hear me? With you it's just like a TV show -- whenever they say that, something always goes wrong."
"Okay, okay. Sorry, man. You've gotta admit, though, this whole thing coulda' been worse," mused Blair, holding Jim's gun away from himself with his thumb and index finger.
"And how is that?" demanded the detective, snatching the weapon from his partner.
The anthropologist smoothed his hair back with one hand, then partially covered a developing smile with one hand, averting his gaze from his partner temporarily. "Uh, I've seen your hair in the morning, Ossifer. Trust me, this is a good day for you."
The detective's only response was an evil stare and low, throaty growl as he turned to head for the shower.
~10:30 p.m. at night on last day of episode~
Jim's brow furrowed as he turned the lock to the loft's door. Intermittent laughter came from inside the apartment, and the voice definitely belonged to Blair. Maybe he got himself a study date for the evening, too? wondered the detective as he pushed open the door.
Sure enough, Blair was seated on the couch -- though he was alone -- with several textbooks piled on the coffee table and on the couch beside him. Remote in one hand, he chortled while staring at the TV screen.
<chuckle> ... <chuckle>......... <more chuckle>
"Oh hey, Jim. How'd the date go with Wendy?" chirped Blair, not taking his eyes off the TV.
"Fine. No news to speak of, though. Guess I can't really see myself doing a long-term dating thing with a woman whose perky voice can be so annoying at times, no matter how attractive she is," said Jim as he hung up his coat on a hook by the door.
Curious at what was so funny, Jim moved so he could see what Blair was watching on TV. "Decide to take a study break, Chief?"
"Oh, yeah. Thought I'd treat myself to some evening entertainment."
Jim's eyes widened as he realized what tape Blair had playing in the VCR, and why he kept rewinding it every few minutes.
A frown developed on Jim's face as he watched the screen depicting a particular shirtless black-boxered detective lowering his gun and muttering while a long curly-haired man in a gray tank top and boxers peeked out from behind his taller roommate.
Blair burst out into full-fledged guffaws again, pointing at the TV. "That look on your face, man!" he laughed, "it gets me every time! You look so -- so totally ticked! Oh man, this is the most hilarious thing I've seen in a long time!" Blair collapsed in more giggles.
Jim rolled his eyes and stomped away toward the stairs to his bedroom.
"'Course," the anthropologist called after him in a feeble attempt to make amends, "it does make me want to work out more..."
"Your hair didn't look so great either, Chief," called Jim from the stairs.
The whirring of the VCR sounded again, then clicked as it started to play the segment for the twentieth time.
"It did NOT! Did it? Oh, man. That could've been on national TV! Jim!?! ..."
~ The End ~