Welcome To The Real World

Entering the hospital, Jim located Blair instantly. He was talking to a doctor, looking still shaken from the press conference. After a brief hesitation, Jim's chiseled features tightened in resolve and he walked determinedly over to his friend.

Large, damp blue eyes flashed up to him before glancing away quickly. Blair cleared his throat. They talked quietly about Simon and Megan's conditions and Zeller, as though anything loud would break some invisible thing between them.

"I saw your press conference," said Jim finally, his eyes softening and never leaving Blair's face. Again Blair's eyes darted up and met Jim's lighter blue ones; held, wavered, and flitted to rest somewhere else.

"Oh, you saw it, huh? It was just a book."

"It was your life," Jim said. The smaller man hesitated only the briefest of moments before replying.

"Yeah, it was. You know, you were right. I mean, uh, I don't know what I was expecting to do with it, and, uh...I mean, where do I get off following you around for three years pretending I was a cop, right?" He didn't look at Jim while he said it, though. The barest hint of a warm smile touched Jim's mouth.

"This self-deprecation doesn't suit you, you know. You might have been just an observer, but you were the best cop I've ever met and the best partner I could have ever asked for. You've been a great friend and you've pulled me through some pretty weird stuff." Blair looked up him, his curly hair pulled back in a ponytail making his eyes seem larger, somehow.

"Th--" Blair Sandburg turned off the television with a loud exclamation of disgust.

"Jim, dude, have you seen this crap?" he asked.

"I've been watching it from in here, sport," came the deep reply. Jim ambled into the living room from the kitchen and sat down next to Blair on the couch. The cushions sank down and groaned under his weight.

"Dude, they totally changed it! It didn't happen like that at all!" Blair bounced his lanky, thin frame impatiently. "I mean, you were way more understanding then that!"

"I guess my sensitivity comes from being raised by only a mother and three older sisters," said Jim thoughtfully.

"Yeah, why did they cut that out?"

"I'm not sure, sport. To make me more uptight and add dramatic tension, I suppose." Blair scowled. He ran a hand through his orange-red hair and tugged off his glasses.

"And it wasn't like it was that big of a deal, anyway. "Coming out," so to speak, was an easy choice, since we booth agreed it was the best option," he paused, slid his glasses back in place and grinned. "I did like the actress who played Megan though. Yeow!" They then shared a smile, both thinking of the maternal, Scottish woman with her wire-rimmed glasses and thin hair constantly pulled back into a tight bun.

"Well," Jim patted the bony knee nearest to him with a meaty hand. "it's Hollywood's version of us. Don't get too bent out of shape over it. It's doubtful anyone would want to watch stuff like that, anyways." They both stood up and Blair stretched.

"I'm going to study for tomorrow's test, okay? I'll keep the lights low." He towered over Jim by a good two inches.

"Keep 'em high, if you want. I'll wear my face mask." Jim padded across the carpeted floor into his bedroom of their two-story house. The gentle sound of the ocean sang outside. Blair sat down and gathered up his textbook onto his lap. After a moment of staring at the cover, he looked up and studied the television.

"What did you make of Simon?" he asked in his normal voice, knowing his Sentinel would hear him. A laugh floated out of the bedroom.

"If only he could learn to be that lenient!"

The End

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