New
Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles
Adventures in Gerbil-Sitting
by Sorcha
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Danae, Michelle, Odie, and Keren. Feedback much appreciated.
Rated: G.
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys and I made no money by writing this story, so please don't sue me. No infringement intended. No gerbils were harmed in the writing of this story.
Closing the loft door behind him, Jim Ellison tossed his keys into the basket and hung up his jacket. As he turned toward the kitchen, something caught the sentinel's attention. He sniffed once, then twice. His nose began to twitch. What is that. . . Something else caught Jim's attention then, cutting his thought short. Rustling noises were floating down to the sentinel's ears from upstairs, accompanied by a very familiar heartbeat.
Deciding that he should investigate, the detective crept quietly up the stairs to his bedroom. There, he found the source of the rustling noises. Under the covers, right in the middle of his bed, was a lump. A moving lump, approximately consistent with the size of his partner. Jim cleared his throat. "Sandburg, do you mind telling me just what it is that you're doing?"
The lump squirmed around a bit and after a few seconds, a head topped with mussed brown curls poked out from under the covers. "Oh, hey, Jim," Blair greeted his loft-mate somewhat sheepishly. "I wasn't expecting you for a while yet."
"Well, I'm here, so answer the question." Ellison's nose was twitching furiously now.
"I'm gerbil-sitting."
"Aaachooo!" Jim let loose a loud sneeze. "*Gerbil*-sitting?"
"Yeah. You see, my friend Jack had to go out of town for a week and he's got these two gerbils, so he needed someone to look after them. He asked me, and naturally I said yes."
"Naturally," Jim grumbled, fighting off another sneeze. "And how does that explain what you're doing in my bed?"
"Oh. Well, I had one of the gerbils out of the cage and came up here to look for my grey and blue flannel shirt that I can't find anywhere. So Misty -- one of the gerbils -- was crawling around on my arm and sort of dropped off onto the bed and disappeared under the covers. So I'm trying to find her. But hey, you're here now. You can probably find her easily."
As he opened his mouth to speak, Jim froze. "I think I'd just did."
"Huh?"
Ellison began shaking his left leg vigorously. "Sandburg, the thing's crawling up my leg!"
"What?!" Blair scurried over to the edge of the bed for a better look. "Hey, Jim, stop that. You'll hurt her."
"She's not the only one who's gonna be hurt here in a minute," Jim threatened. "Do something, would you?!"
"Like what?" Sandburg asked, trying not to laugh at the scene before him.
"Arrrgh!" With lightning speed, Jim had his belt undone and was reaching down into his pants. He pulled out the offending creature and handed it to his friend. "Here. . . achoo! . . . take it before I toss it out the window."
Taking the small animal in his hands, Blair got up from the bed. "I can't believe you said that!" He headed downstairs, whispering to the gerbil. "Poor thing, don't listen to him. He's just a grumpy old sentinel."
"And don't think that you can make me feel sorry for a rat," Jim called from the top of the stairs, where he was doing up his belt.
"She's not a rat, Jim," Blair corrected him. "She's a gerbil. There's a difference."
"Not in my book, there isn't." Jim came down the stairs as Blair disappeared into his downstairs bedroom. "And there's no way. . . achoo!. . .that you're keeping those animals here for another hour, let alone the whole week."
"What?!" Blair came out of his room, having safely deposited Misty in her cage. "Come on, Jim. They've got nowhere else to stay."
"Well, you'll have to find a place, or else you'll all be temporarily out on the street."
"Oh, come on. Where's your love for animals?"
"Look, Chief, I like most animals as much as the next guy, but not rats." Jim took a bottle of water out of the fridge and unscrewed the cap.
"Gerbils, Jim. Not rats. Gerbils."
"And besides," Ellison continued, ignoring his friend, "the stench is . . .achoo!. . .awful."
"Stench? Jim, the cage was just cleaned this morning!"
"Doesn't matter. They still stink. The whole apartment reeks of them." The sentinel took a drink of water, then put the rest back in the refrigerator. "Now, I'm going to the grocery store and to run a couple of errands, and when I get back there are to be no animals on the premises. Understand?"
Looking defeated, Blair slumped into a kitchen chair. "Man, you're so unfair. They're just poor, defenseless, little creatures and you --"
"Save it, Chief," Jim cut him off, holding up a hand. Sniffing against another sneeze, he moved over to the door and put his jacket on. He slipped his keys into his pocket and opened the door. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.
"Sorry about this, girls," Blair apologized to the two gerbils as he placed their cage on the passenger seat of the Volvo. "But mean old Jim is kicking you out. Don't worry, though. I found you a nice place to stay." Securing his seatbelt, Sandburg started up the car and pulled onto the street from the parking lot. After promising to buy her dinner on the weekend, Blair had managed to convince his friend Amy to look after the gerbils for the week. Since it hadn't taken him long to strike deal with her, Sandburg was hoping that he would have time to air out the loft a bit before Jim arrived home. The last thing he needed was for Jim to be in a bad mood for the rest of the evening.
Wanting to get back to the loft, Blair stayed at Amy's for only a few minutes. After one last goodbye to the gerbils, he was out of the apartment and walking down the street toward his car. As he neared the Volvo, something in a store window caught his eye, and he stopped. Should I? he asked himself. Nah, I shouldn't. He started walking again, then stopped once more. On the other hand. . . . He turned back and slipped into the store, unable to resist the temptation.
Later that night, Jim headed up the stairs to bed, glad that he had got his message across to Blair earlier. When he had arrived home for the second time, the gerbils had been removed from the building, the loft had been thoroughly aired out, and his bed had been remade. Now, the sentinel was blissfully sneeze-free and ready for sleep.
Having stripped down to his boxers, Jim climbed into bed and sank down into the pillows with a contented sigh. As he stretched his legs down toward the end of his bed, his right foot came in contact with something soft and fuzzy. The sentinel froze. After a second, he wiggled his toes. Yes, there was definitely something there. And it was definitely furry. In a flash, Jim was sitting up and throwing back the covers. He reached down and grabbed the mystery object. Opening up his vision so he could see in the dark, the sentinel found himself to be holding a stuffed rat, complete with beady little eyes and a long, gross tail. Why the little. . . . Not caring if anyone in the building was trying to sleep, Jim filled his lungs with air and let loose.
"SANDBURG!"
The End