Lofty Conversations
Third in the Conversations series
"Chief?" Jim Ellison opened the loft door, tossed his keys towards the basket meant to catch them, and didn’t even stop when he heard them hit the table instead. He’d already pinpointed his roommate’s location, the couch, by Blair’s heartbeat, and his own sped up when he heard the hacking cough. "You didn’t go back out, did you?" he asked suspiciously.
"No, man," came a hoarse reply muffled by several blankets.
Jim juggled the bag he carried to his left hand, cross the living room, and peeled back a few layers of wool to expose his friend’s huddled form. He’d never admit to anyone, but Jim found the sight of his young partner, sleepy and rumpled, to be one of the five most irresistible sights in the known world….okay, one of the top three.
Large, blue eyes, made almost purple by the amount of red surrounding them, peered up at him. Jim knew 80% of it was calculated to get to him, but he couldn’t resist. "Ah, Chief," he murmured. Blair had on Jim’s favorite green sweater, a pair of his old sweat pants and more than likely his socks judging by the lack of toes peeking out from holes.
"Sit up, Blair," he coaxed, "I brought you something." Plunking a pillow down behind the other man, Jim sat on the coffee table and dug into the bag he’d brought.
"What is it?" Blair watched as Jim removed a Styrofoam container, popped the lid and handed it over.
"Careful," Jim warned, "it’s hot."
"Oh, man, this is perfect!" Blair took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid. "Mmm, chicken noodle soup." Bliss suffusing his every cell, Sandburg gazed up at his partner. "You’re a god among men, Jim, a god."
"Glad you feel that way, Chief," Jim said with a chuckle, "’cause I’ve got a few commandments."
"Oh, man," Blair frowned, "I’m sick here, Jim. You gotta give me a break." He employed the "little me" look, the one the patent office had recently approved for use on James Ellison. Unfortunately for Sandburg his partner had invested in the "for his own good" shield and withstood the assault with only minor discomfort.
"Blair," he warned. Sandburg quickly immersed himself in the task of slurping soup. "You’re going to stay right here," he patted the cushions, "eat your soup and drink plenty of liquids. Then you’ll take some aspirin and rest. Got it?"
"Yes, Bawana." Sandburg offered a sweet smirk and continued with his soup while Jim rose and headed for the kitchen. "What were you guys doing when I called?"
"Hm? Uh, just looking for Lindley’s statement," Jim said. Blair watched him hunt down the aspirin, fill a glass with juice and come back with it. "You know I almost got the feeling they were….amused or something." Ellison shook his head, clearly bewildered.
"Who? Lindley’s lawyers?" Blair finished his soup, permitted Jim’s hand to his forehead with resignation, and faithfully swallowed the white pills dropped into his palm.
"No," Ellison took back the glass, pressed Blair down against the pillow and covered him. "Simon and Joel and the others," he shrugged. "You called and, I don’t know, they thought it was weird or something."
"They were all right there when we were talking?" Blair shivered, wishing he had another blanket to ward off the chill which had laid claim to his bones, and sighed when Jim tugged the afghan down over him. "Maybe we sound like an old married couple," he guessed, peeking up at Jim with one eye.
"Why the hell would we sound like that?" Jim smoothed the blankets into place, careful to leave a space for Blair to reach out and drink the glass of orange juice on the coffee table, and grinned.
"We’re just two guys, Chief. We still throw underwear on the floor and belch like seals."
"Don’t forget we also fart like elephants," Blair murmured drowsily.
"Yeah," Jim agreed, "right after our Consciousness Awareness class."
Jim allowed himself a sigh, he no idea how other people viewed his relationship with Sandburg. smoothing back a damp lock of hair, he picked up the soup bowl. All he knew was when he looked at Sandburg he saw his entire world. They were two guys, living in the same place, working together, enjoying each other’s company. Sure, Blair helped him with his whacked out senses, but that didn’t affect their friendship. Nope, him and Sandburg were just like everybody else.