New
Arrivals
Author-Amanda
Titles
Theurgy
by Amanda
Disclaimer: All Sentinel characters belong to Pet Fly Productions. Rated: G.
A bit if fluff - bored one night and I love looking after orphaned animals. They all deserve a chance, whether it be a rat or a cute, fluffy creature. (Edited and re-posted May 2001.)
(Theurgy: miracle; magical act; art of persuading divinity to perform desired act.)
Blair pulled into a vacant space outside the loft. Jim's truck wasn't there so he had beaten him home again, this being the second time he had parked outside home in an hour. He stretched over into the back seat and carefully picked up the small box. Grabbing his backpack he eased out of the car, mindful of the fragile booty in the box, and locked his car. Opening the front door he kicked it shut behind him and quickly went to the couch, laying the box down gently.
He opened the lid and peered inside. "How're you doing, little fellas?"
Soft mewling sounds greeted him and he smiled. He lifted two tiny kittens from their cardboard bed and placed them in his lap. The vet he had just left assured him they were in good health, and were lucky he had found them when he did. They wouldn't have lasted through the night. Their eyes had only just opened and she had estimated them to be no more than a few weeks old.
Blair stroked the tiny heads and fought becoming upset again at how he found them around the corner from their front door. If he hadn't heard them they would have been dead by morning. How could someone be so callous as to just dump two tiny helpless kittens? He couldn't understand it. He had searched the area thoroughly in case there were more but there had only been these two.
It was 10pm when Blair awoke on the couch and he could hear Jim's key in the lock. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in case he'd rolled over on top of the kittens. They were snuggled in close and sound asleep. He had fed them when he got home with the formula provided by the vet. He stayed where he was, leaning his head on his arm as Jim came in.
Jim hung his coat up and looked over his half asleep flatmate. "What can I smell, Sandburg?"
"I don't know. What can you smell?"
Jim approached him, wondering absently why Blair was remaining where he was.
"Well, I can't smell dinner. It was your turn wasn't it?" he looked over at the answering machine and saw the light still blinking. "Didn't you get my message?" Jim went to the fridge and opened it , his stomach grumbling at the thought of food. He frowned at what looked like a jar of milk.
"Uh, no. I didn't look at the machine. Too busy."
"Doesn't matter. Just telling you I was going to be late in case you had started anything." His nose twitched again at the unfamiliar smell. Getting a can of softdrink for himself he went to join Blair, hoping to catch some of the TV news.
He stopped and looked more carefully at his Guide. Blair's arm was holding something protectively. Two small, squirming somethings. He sat on Blair's feet before he could move them in time.
"What the hell have you found?" He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
"Aren't they georgeous? I found them outside. Just dumped, man! Can you believe it? They would have died, I just had to bring them in. I've been to the vet and she tells me they're OK but too young to be away from their mother. I've got formula for them, see? their eyes have only opened. I'll look after them until they're big enough to be given away. I already have a couple of people in mind."
That explained the strange jar in the fridge. Jim looked at the kittens who were starting to stir awake at the noise. Luckily Blair had them wrapped in a towel.
"Do you know how to look after them?"
"Yeah, sure. She explained it all to me. They can get pretty messy because their mother would normally clean them up after....well, you know. But I can handle that."
"How often do they have to be fed?"
"Every few hours. I'll have to set my alarm. I'll set it real low so it doesn't wake you."
"Hmmm," said Jim, dubious.
4am. The clock said 4am. Jim could hear the supposedly quiet alarm going off downstairs. Blair had already been awake twice to feed his charges. But this time the alarm wasn't going to wake him. Jim padded silently down the stairs and into his bedroom. Retrieving the boxful of joy, he left just as quietly. Blair had explained to him how much formula and how often. Jim hadn't thought he'd been listening but he must have been sub-consciously because he measured the amount out of the jar and nuked it for a few seconds in the microwave to bring it to room temperature. He took the syringe and rubber teat from the sterile solution they had been soaking in.
Retreating to the couch he lifted one of the kittens from the box and managed to coax it into taking the formula. It fed, he then saw to the second one. That was how Blair found him an hour later. In his boxer shorts, head back, mouth open, asleep, one arm draped over the box containing two fed kittens.
"Jim?"
The head shot upright, "Huh?"
"I'm sorry, Jim. I must've slept through the alarm."
"Wassa time?"
"Quarter to six. You have first shower, I'll get breakfast."
He smiled as the man levered himself up and disappeared into the bathroom. Blair watched him go, feeling slightly guilty at not having woken up to feed his furry responsibilities. Blair checked his babies and then went about preparing breakfast.
**********
"Leave them in my desk drawer."
Blair looked at him, horrified. They had just walked into Major Crimes, the kittens in the inside pocket of Blair's jacket for warmth. "No way, man. Someone might take them." He glanced at Simon's office just as its owner poked his head out and caught sight of them.
Simon crooked his finger at them to come into his office.
Jim rolled his eyes, "Just don't let Simon catch sight of them."
"I won't, I won't." Blair waved him on ahead on him.
"Have a seat, gentlemen." Simon indicated the chairs. "Coffee?"
Jim nodded, Blair declined. Simon looked at him, askance. Not like him to knock back coffee.
"You feeling alright, Sandburg? Don't tell me you're going off coffee?"
Jim couldn't help himself, "Breastfeeding, sir."
Blair glared at him. Simon paused and also looked at his detective. Was it a full moon, perhaps? He chose to ignore the comment and handed Jim his coffee.
"I'd like you to go see Mrs Chatworth today. See if you can get her to come around and implicate her brother."
Jim silently cursed into his coffee. He'd hoped not to be the one to see Mrs Chatworth. The woman was formidable. He'd already been to see her the week before but, then, he hadn't had Blair with him that time. Blair seemed to appeal to older ladies. Mrs Chatworth was possibly the only witness to the assault on her butler, an assault that had left him in hospital with a cracked skull, the motive apparently robbery. The brother had been left what he considered a pittance in their parent's will and he had meant to even the scales by taking a few paintings for himself. The butler had disturbed him. The only reason they were involved was because the brother had been cleared of murder the year before. A murder they were convinced he had committed.
Simon looked at Blair over the top of his coffee cup. The young man was surreptitiously looking into his jacket pocket for the third time since he had sat down. Simon concentrated and could have sworn he could see movement.
"Confess. What's in your pocket, Sandburg." He was rewarded with the young man's face taking on an innocent mien. "Don't give me that, Sandburg, empty your pockets."
Jim sat back, absolving himself. Blair stood and went over to the police captain. Opening his jacket, like a man illegally selling watches, he showed off his kittens.
"I'm sorry, Simon, I couldn't leave them at home. They have to fed every couple of hours."
But Simon wasn't exactly listening. He was stroking the tiny heads and was answered with soft, mewling protests. His face softened and he tickled one under the chin. Jim managed to keep the amusement from his face but Blair had no such affectation. He grinned openly at the big man.
"Aren't they cute? I found them last night, dumped outside the loft."
Simon looked at him, "You're kidding. That's disgusting. What bastard would do a thing like that?"
"That's just what I said!" Blair blurted indignantly.
At that moment both of them noticed the cool appraisal they were getting from the quiet detective. Simon raised his eyebrows at him in challenge.
"What do you think of them, Jim? I'm amazed you didn't make him get rid of them."
Jim looked wounded, "I'm not that heartless, if you don't mind. When they're old enough Blair'll find homes for them."
A knock at the door brought Carolyn into the office. She paused in mid question, noticing Simon and Blair looking intently into Blair's pocket.
"What have you got there?" Instantly surmising it must be an animal of some kind.
Blair held out his pocket for her to see.
"Ohhh, they're beautiful, Blair. Where did you get them?" She looked at Jim, "I didn't think you liked pets?"
Jim rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer as she had returned her attention back to the pocket. Blair grinned broadly as both Simon and Carolyn made soft noises at the kittens. Outside, Taggert noticed something was going on. He joined them and was likewise treated to the proud father showing off his babies. Jim took the opportunity to slink back to his desk. He had work to do.
**********
Jim dropped his jacket and keys and made a beeline for the fridge. Blair was right behind him and headed for the lounge. It was only 6pm but Jim had decided to call it an early night and not return to the station. The questioning of Mrs Chatworth had proved a waste of time. She was nowhere near ready to implicate her brother.
Blair took the kittens from his warm pocket and placed them in their box. Packing the old woollen gloves and shredded newspaper around them to keep their warmth up, he then went to the kitchen to make up some more formula. Jim started to prepare dinner, despite it being Blair's turn again as the young father had enough to worry about. Luckily he was between semesters and only had his own university work to attend to. He was thankful for the lack of papers to grade and, after dinner, bid Jim goodnight. Being a father took it out of you, Jim surmised.
A few weeks later saw Jim entering Major Crimes sans Sandburg. Carolyn walked up to his desk and drew a chair over to sit in.
"Where are the kittens?"
Good morning to you, too, thought Jim. "Sandburg had a few errands to run, he'll be in later this morning."
Carolyn looked about the room, "Oh, I was looking forward to my kitten fix." She heard something and looked at Jim. He stared straight back at her, unflinching. She could swear she heard...."You have them?"
Jim leant back in his chair, resignedly, "Yeah, I have ‘em." He opened his jacket and let Carolyn peer in. Two tired kittens were curled around each other sleeping. Jim sighed and wondered if he was going to get any work done that morning.
Carolyn didn't want to disturb them. "I'm going for coffee, want one?"
"Love one." Jim smiled after her as she left to get them their coffee. Careful of his sleeping charges he attacked the paperwork in his in-tray. It was two hours later that Blair appeared and divested him of the contents of his warm pocket in order to feed them.
Simon looked through his office blinds at his detective and the younger man. Jim sat quietly doing the paperwork that Blair would normally have gotten around to and Blair sat in his chair, his arms and head on Jim's desk, dozing, the two kittens curled up in the shelter of his arms. The kid had probably been up several times the night before feeding them. Jim looked over to him and smiled. Simon smiled back and waved him in.
"He getting any sleep at all?" Simon handed a coffee to his detective.
"Thanks....not much. It's a good thing he found them during semester break but he goes back in a couple of weeks."
"They'll be old enough to leave alone by then, won't they?"
Jim tasted his coffee, "Dunno. Maybe. At least they shouldn't need to be fed every coupla hours."
"I'm sure we can manage something." Simon said decidedly.
Jim regarded his captain, he always knew the man had a heart underneath all the bluster. Simon returned his gaze and guessed immediately what the other was thinking.
"Don't look at me like that. I care what happens to small animals," he said indignantly.
"You care about a lot of things, Simon," Jim admitted, "even small police observers."
"I wouldn't go to that extreme, Jim." But Simon was smiling. "Haven't you got any work to do, detective?"
"Yeah, but I have to go out. I'm not sure Sandburg would be too thrilled having to bring his kittens."
"Leave ‘em here. Tell me what to do and I'm sure I can manage for a few hours."
Twenty minutes later Blair was watching the police captain worriedly. Jim was impatient to leave but Blair didn't seem to want to leave and Simon knew the reticence for what it was.
"It's OK, Sandburg. I am quite capable of this. I fed Daryl when he was a baby. I'll warm the milk first...."
"Not too hot..."
"I know this. They'll stay in office where they'll be safe. Look, I even have a box for them so they won't roll off the desk." He showed the young man the box in question and smirked as Blair inspected it.
Blair looked at him guiltily, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be obnoxious."
"It's OK," Simon reassured him.
"Don't let anyone pick them up."
"Promise. Get going."
That afternoon, Simon had more visitors than he could remember having in a long time.
**********
Classes commenced at the university and Blair took his kittens with him. They still required feeding every four hours which didn't present much of a problem for him. He took their box into the classroom when he was teaching and one thing he learnt was that women adored men who had baby animals of any kind. This continued for a couple of months, but by then he could leave them at home throughout the day and feed them when he came home in the afternoon.
One night he returned to the loft to find them gone from their box. Panic didn't set in straight away as they had become big enough to wander around but his worry increased by the moment and he was in a right state by the time Jim came home, ten minutes behind him.
"Blair?" the detective could hear his flatmate rattling around the loft. Simon had come home with him to join them for dinner and he couldn't see the anthropologist either.
They were treated to a curly head popping up from behind the couch to peer at them.
"Uhh, hi, guys. Umm, Jim, could you help me here, please?"
Jim removed his jacket, smiling. "What's your prob?"
"The kittens, man. I can't find them. I got home about ten minutes ago and I can't find them anywhere. Can you listen for me?"
Jim sighed, "Have a seat, Simon. This'll only take a minute." The Sentinel put his talent to good use and listened carefully for two little bundles of joy. It took him a few seconds to pinpoint their faint heartbeats.
"I hate to tell you, Sandburg, they're in your room. We'll never find them."
Blair gave him a tolerant look, "Ha ha, you're killing me. Help me find them." He tip-toed into his room.
Jim knew what his bedroom was like most of the time, "I'm sure the dust monster would have gotten them by now," he called out.
"You're not funny, you know!" Blair shouted from his room.
Simon chuckled and headed for the kitchen. The intrepid explorers would no doubt feel like a cup of cofffee after their soiree. A few minutes later they surfaced, each with a kitten. Simon took their coffee to the table and regarded the cats.
"Good Lord, they've grown!"
"They're about two months old now. House trained. Had all their shots. Perfect little ladies."
"Found a home for them yet?" Simon seated himself, Jim joining him at the table.
"Carolyn wants them." Jim smiled at him.
Simon almost choked on his coffee, "Both of ‘em?"
Jim was still smiling. Blair batted him on the arm. "Stop it. She's very nice for taking them both. It wouldn't be good to separate them at this age."
Jim relented, "Yeah, I know. I never figured her for the pet type."
"They're pretty attached to you." Simon nodded to Blair who had one clamped onto his shoulder and the other in his arms, "how are they gonna take being separated from you?"
"I'll still get to see them. I'll wean them off me. Besides, they're doing pretty well considering how they could have ended up. Cats adapt, you know, it won't be so hard on them."
Simon nodded sagely, but he knew who was really going to need the weaning.
Jim rubbed his hands together. "Dinner. Simon offered to cook for us."
Blair's face lit up. "Yeah? What we having?"
"Don't get too excited, Sandburg, tonight's poker night so it'll be something quick and easy."
Blair's face still hadn't lost its light. He loved it when someone else cooked.
Simon sighed, "Pasta and Chicken."
"Yum yum. Let me know if I can help. I have to go and do some work." Blair wandered off to his room, cats hanging off him in various places.
A half hour later Simon called him to the table and Blair shot out like a bullet from a gun and launched into one of the chairs. Jim muttered something along the lines of ‘take him anywhere' and seated himself. Simon poured them all a beer.
"I love cooking at other people's places, means I don't have to clean up."
Conversation followed the lines of either work or Daryl or the new woman in Narcotics that had taken a shine to Jim, Jim having a date with her coming up that weekend, when Simon jumped in surprise. A kitten had leapt onto his lap, all claws, and was preparing to curl up. He smiled and left it there.
By the time the others got there, Blair was in the kitchen cleaning up. He waved off attempts to draw him into the first game saying, as much as he would like to take their money, he had too much work to do. Taggert admired his dedication, but thought him mad nonetheless. Blair left them at the table and took his books to the couch, blocking out the noise with Jim's walkman.
It was close to midnight when Taggert noticed the time. Being a Friday night they didn't really care but they were all tired after the long week. He looked over at Blair who they had heard nothing from in a couple of hours. Soft snoring could be heard. Taggert chuckled pointing at him. Jim stood to gain a better view. Blair lay on his stomach with one kitten curled up on his shoulders and the other on the back of his knees.
"That can't be comfortable," Simon, craning his head to look, said softly.
Jim stood, walking quietly over to his room mate, and lifted both kittens from their perches. Blair stirred from the absence of warmth.
"Blair? Blair, go to bed."
The young man sat up, hair askew, wiping his mouth where he had dribbled slightly in his sleep. He opened his eyes only enough to see his way to his room and, without a word, left them to it. Jim put the two kittens back on the couch but, bereft of their warm human, they jumped down and ran after it.
"He'll make a great father someday." Taggert laughed, watching the disappearing kittens. He walked to Blair's doorway, knowing the young man wouldn't be annoyed by the invasion of privacy, and looked inside the dark room. Blair had managed to kick off his shoes and lay sprawled on his stomach again and the kittens had resumed their previous positions.
**********
Jim watched his young room mate. Blair was seated on the couch, a book in hand, staring out the balcony doors. He had delivered the kittens to Carolyn the day before and felt oddly lonely, missing the kittens badly. He felt like he should be doing something but couldn't think what.
Jim decided to leave him alone for the time being. His roommate was in mourning, he'd even admitted to Jim that he missed them. Jim grabbed their two coats from the hooks near the front door. He tossed Blair's to him. The young man looked up, startled out of his reverie.
"Come on. Let's go for a drive...."
Blair shook his head and lay his coat beside him. Jim went to him and, seizing his arm, pulled him up.
"Humour me. Let's see if Carolyn's home and how her new babies are going...." Jim was almost bowled out of the way by a flurry of police observer.
"Righto. Let's be off, then."
Jim looked at the open door. Blair was long gone and on his way down to the car. The tall man smiled and shook his head. It would take him some weeks to wean his friend off the kittens but he was sure it could be done.
FINIS