Disclaimer: The Sentinel is a Pet Fly Production and all related characters and situations belong to those who hold legal copyright. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.Author's Notes: Bits and pieces, scraps, scenes that might make it into a full fic someday... just been having a really bad week and blocked from writing fic—figured I'd post these. In no particular order.
Snapshots
Part of the The Sparrowhawk Sandburg Series
by
Besterette
Besterette@aol.com
"I can do this." Blair looked nervously at Jim, who nodded reassuringly.
"You can do this."
"I jumped out of an airplane, I can do this," Blair repeated, still sounding unsure of himself.
"You can do this."
"I've disarmed bombs, shot at bad guys and been shot at by bad guys. Came back from the dead, graduated college and the academy. I can do this."
"You can do this," Jim repeated, calmly and patiently.
The music started. Blair turned and looked across the church, past the assorted friends and family, to the double doors at the far wall. Megan's father escorted her down the aisle in solemn step to the strains of 'The Wedding March.' Blair looked up at his best man again. "Jim, I'm gonna throw up..."
Plastic wheels rolled across the hardwood floor of the loft. "Brumm. Bummmm—erummm—erummm."
No longer even pretending to read his newspaper, Blair watched the little boy push the rather battered toy truck, crawling behind it and making appropriate sound effects.
"Sckreeeck!" The truck turned wildly to avoid a leg of the coffee table, and crashed into a firetruck. Jake Ellison carefully turned the firetruck onto its side, and then put the truck on top of it. Upside down. "Ka-Pow!"
"Like father like son," Blair chuckled to himself.
"Hm. Hey, Jim, listen to this..."
Trotting down the stairs from his bedroom, Jim glanced at the fat red paperback Blair was curled up with on the couch. Animal Speak, by Ted Andrews.
"Aw, Chief, you know all that shaman stuff gives me a headache."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just listen to this. Jaguars are listed as a subgroup of panther. 'All cats have binocular vision. Each eye can work singly, providing greater depth of vision, magnifying images, and facilitating judgement of distance.' Then there's some shaman stuff, and he says, 'The panther has very strong hearing. It can move its ears to locate the direction of sounds' and 'The panther also has extremely sensitive hairs on the body, those with a panther totem will find their own sensitivity to touch increasing from the time the panther enters your life.' Sounds like jaguars were meant to be the sentinel spirit animal. And listen to this: 'Usually, in the lives of those with a panther totem, there either already exists or will soon arrive upon the scene an individual who will serve as teacher and nurturer and guide upon the heroic path.' That would be me. Are we talking Twilight Zone time here or what?"
Jim leaned against the pillar. "It also says 'individuals with the jaguar panther as a totem will instinctively know how best to attack if placed in that position, and they can do so lethally whether in defense or in response to anger. Because of this natural ability, individuals with this totem must learn to temper their response, or they may unintentionally wound others more deeply than they mean to.' I'm trying to do better about that, Chief, but tell me if I cross the line, even though you wolves 'don't like unnecessary fights.' Hey, I can read and you keep leaving that book all over the place. Today's lesson over, Professor? 'Cause I've got a date with Beau to let Jake throw mashed apricots at me..."
"No, no lesson, man, just some interesting coincidences... like this bit about the jaguar females raising the cubs mostly on their own..."
"Jim Ellison! I haven't seen you in years!" Cynthia Wingate purred.
"Cindy. Uh, hi, how you been?" Jim glanced into the cart, bread, milk, paper towels, apples, nothing like diapers or baby food he could use to draw her attention to the fact that he wasn't available.
He looked past the beautiful willowy blonde in the designer suit to Beau at the end of the supermarket aisle. Beau looked back at him, raised her eyebrows, and deliberately picked up a can of olives and started to read the label. No help there. He also compared the tall, beautiful, blonde, perfectly made-up, expensively dressed Cindy to Beau's comfortably rumpled sweats and the soft fall of unstyled brown hair, and groaned inwardly, wondering what his punishment would be.
"A little lonely since my divorce," she said archly, moving closer and actually putting her hand on his chest, toying with one of his shirt buttons. "How've you been, Jim? You look good."
"I'm settled down." He took a step back, and inspiration struck. "I guess fatherhood agrees with me." He produced his secret weapon from his wallet. Baby pictures, guaranteed to send old army buddies and ex-girlfriends fleeing for the hills. Cindy agreed that Jake was adorable, that he had the most beautiful brown eyes she'd ever seen, and that he would grow up to be a heartbreaker like his dad. Then regretfully moved on, just stopped in to pick up a deli salad, late night at the office, the Petersen Account, nice seeing you Jim...
The click of high heels faded into a PA announcement that blueberry pie was on special at the bakery.
Beau put the olives in their cart. "What is it with Cascade and these Amazon women? If there's something in the water I'm going to stop using the Brita filter..."
Jim shifted his weight, remembering Carolyn's reaction to Beverly flirting with him—after they'd been divorced two years. "So how much trouble am I in?"
Beau looked up at him with the original most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen and grinned. "She's beautiful. Sophisticated. Obviously had a past with you. You're coming home with me, Bill's babysitting, and I'm picking up a can of Reddi-Whip before we leave. I win."
Jim's eyes widened as he looked at the elegantly set table. Crystal, the good china. Fragrant smells drifting from the kitchen made his stomach growl but the sight of Beau in the little black Audrey Hepburn dress made him consider putting dinner off until dessert. She was just lighting a candle.
"Hey, I know it's not our anniversary..."
She smiled. "I just felt formal tonight." She shrugged. "Blair and Megan took Jake for the evening."
Jim glanced down at his jeans and gray T-shirt. "I'll change..."
"No, you're fine the way you are." She herded him over to the table, to his chair, with a kiss. He sat, bemused, as she went into the kitchen and returned with a platter of roast beef. She set it down in the middle of the table, and sat, picking up the folded cloth napkin on her plate. He did the same, and stared at the black velvet jeweler's box, open to show the gold man's ring with the black onyx-framed square diamond. "So, handsome, you still want to get hitched?"
Blair handed the last box from his office to Jim, and followed him out. He walked slowly, following the older man, taking a last look around Hargrove Hall and the Rainier campus one last time through these eyes. Anthropologist Blair Sandburg was leaving. He would be Detective Blair Sandburg if he came back. He didn't regret his decision, to edit his thesis, to set his doctorate aside so he could continue to work with Jim... but this was who he had been for a long time.
"Hey, hang on a sec..." he called to Jim as they passed the fountain. The Sentinel watched in puzzlement as his Guide put down the heavy box of books and sat on the edge of the fountain, rolling up a plaid flannel sleeve and leaning over... lifted a dripping fist triumphantly. Jim still didn't get it. Blair opened his fist to display the quarter.
"If you throw a coin into a fountain because you want to return to it..." He shivered theatrically.
Jim looked at him in disbelief and laughed softly.
Blair stared at the shallow dish in front of Megan in horror. "What are you eating?"
"Meat pie in split-pea soup. I was going to put some ketchup on it but this honey-barbecue sauce goes surprisingly well."
"Um, Meg? Honey, sweetheart, sugar... are you pregnant or just homesick?"
~ End ~
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Page last updated 8/15/03.