New
Arrivals
Author-Wnnepooh
Titles
The Mirth of Fourth
by Wnnepooh
Author's Notes: For Robyn and Becky ('cause that's the way it is with roomies -- if one gets something, the other has to have the same), for Jo Duffy, 'cause I know she's still out there! Also -- for Angie, Bonnie, Wolfshy, Annecat, Heather, Stargazer, Danny, and Emeral Angelic Munchkin. I was only doing an obsenfic thank you and look where my mooses went? Yeesh! Anyone out there got a Chilton's manual for Moose?
Disclaimer: The boyz -- clothed or unclothed -- aren't mine. I promise that I'm only taking them to the park and we'll be right back after we're done. Of course, should the powers that be decide they need to have some more time alone, I'll be more than happy to bring the boyz home with me for a while... (sigh, I wish).
"Cool..."
Jim looked over the back of the couch, moving the paper just enough to see Blair who was sitting at the dining table working on the laptop. Small popping noises reached his ears. Nothing to get upset about, the detective thought. Just some sound wav or something. Returning to his reading, Jim shook his head at his friend, then settled down even further into the couch cushions.
"Oh man, that's cute!"
The running commentary from Blair wasn't new. But the enthusiasm was. Normally, Ellison heard a lot of cursing and desparaging commentary on student essays coming from Sandburg at the computer. To hear the kid amused was nice -- pleasant even. With a smile, Jim set the paper aside and headed for the fridge.
"Whatcha looking at, Chief?"
Blair's smile didn't fade as he looked over his shoulder towards his room mate. "I'm reading my e-mails."
Jim snickered. "Not a chance." Setting a cold bottle of water on the table, he peered over the younger man's shoulder at the laptop screen that once again was making popping noises. This time, Jim saw the fireworks applett that accompanied it. "That doesn't look like any e-mail I get."
"I didn't think you even knew how to spell e-mail, Jim," Blair said, not surprised when he felt the light swat to the back of his head.
"Ha ha. You're killing me, Shecky." As he pulled up a chair behind Sandburg, Jim watched his partner hit a bunch of keys and move the mouse making a familiar screen appear. "THAT's what I think of when I think e-mail. What was that thing you had up?"
"A postcard for July 4th," Blair replied, then showed his friend the numerous other cards he'd gotten in his mail. "They're really cool. And I gotta tell you it's nice to see the display of feelings from the listsibs."
"When you're right, you're right, Chief. It's nice to see that even for those NOT in the US, there's a general appreciation of freedom." He hadn't meant it to sound so heavy, but Jim knew there were a lot of his own emotions tied up in such "patriotic" holidays.
Blair looked over his shoulder, noting the ever-so-Ellison look of reserve.
Wanting to change the subject, Jim continued on a different thought. "How many are there so far?"
If Jim wanted to let it go, Blair could respect that. "I think seven or eight, right now." Taking a sip from his own water bottle, Blair sat back and stretched. The mail had gotten light as the afternoon hour had approached and he figured it would taper off as more people headed off to their respective picnics and such. "You wanna see them again, man?"
Jim nodded and watched as his young friend showed off the virtual cards once more. Once they were done, he watched Blair return to reading e-mail. Looking out the window, Jim noted the absolutely beautiful sky and smiled. "Say, Chief. Why don't you shut that thing down and we'll head out to the park? You can take that frisbee you bought -- the tie-dye one..."
The bounce was immediate. "Cool. I've been meaning to see if it's more Sentinel friendly than others." As he spoke, his hands moved automatically over the keyboard. Before Jim could even stand, the laptop was shut down and being packed up.
"I don't think the Whammo R&D people had Sentinel Zone-outs on their list of safety hazards," he said and smiled as the Sandburg whirlwind headed for the small bedroom off the kitchen.
"Yeah," Blair commented back. "But recent research DOES support that flashes of bright colors can incite seizures and such in certain types of people... Still, they make those things in red, neon green, flourescent orange... You never know what it's gonna do... They should label 'em or something."
Shaking his head, Jim removed his shirt and headed for his own bedroom to change. Blair was still going on. "It's not the frisbee that's the problem for you Chief," he said in a semi-serious voice. "If there's gonna be a safety label on anything -- they need one on bikinis. I can just see it now 'Warning -- do not use near male Sandburgs. May cause unnecessary eye strain.'" Laughing, Jim stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his reflection in the large shadow box catching his attention. If he stood just the right way, the medals seemed to make a design on his chest. He was suddenly caught by a wave of gratitude for Blair, and touched the edge of the display case gently.
Sandburg had stopped talking when he heard his friend laughing. Stretching into a t-shirt, he'd exited his bedroom in time to see the man staring into the glass case full of military stuff, the one he'd given Jim on Memorial Day. Blair's question was stopped before it started.
He knew he was being watched, and turned a smile to his friend. "You should take an athletic shirt, Sandburg. That tee's gonna be a little heavy with all the humidity."
Message received -- moment over, Blair thought, and moved on to Jim's comment. "I'll deal with it. You can ruin your skin all you want."
Taking the verbal nudge, Jim headed up the stairs, continuing the conversation over the open railing. "It's not gonna kill you to get a little sun..."
"Oh, yeah," the young man replied, settling a bunch of items into a backpack. "Maybe not now. But later, sure. All that tanning ages your skin. We'll see who gets carded up till the age of 40 -- you or me."
"No fair, Chief," Jim said with a smile, heading back down from his room -- still shirtless. "I've only got a couple years till then, and I don't get carded at all any more." He tossed an a-shirt over his shoulder and took a seat on the couch while he tied up his sneakers.
"Sucks to be you, man!" The two exchanged amused looks and headed for the front door. "I don't know why you don't leave it off," Blair started as Jim shrugged into the shirt. "You're just gonna take it off when we get to the park anyway."
"Right. But the truck's got vinyl seats. I don't feel like sticking to 'em."
The headed out the front door, then down to the truck. The humidity hit them as they opened the front door and Blair felt his hair begin to curl tighter, silently thanking the person who invented not-pull elastic bands.
As they opened the doors and let the cab air out, Blair looked over at his obviously sun-appreciative friend. Jim was standing staring up at the sky, a large smile on his face.
"Hey," Sandburg started, rolling down the window and taking his seat on the passenger side. "Don't stare into the sun -- you'll hurt your eyes. And with YOUR senses I don't want to think of the consequences..."
Taking the driver's seat, Jim sighed and responded to his friend. "I'm not staring at the sun," and he started the truck, heading it out for the local park. "I was soaking up the warmth. I thought you'd be doing the same since you're always cold. Besides, who made YOU the safety smurf?"
"Smurf?" Blair snickered. "Man, that's cruel. I'm not THAT short..."
"Compared to Simon and me?" the detective started. "Yeah -- you're that short..."
Blair found the laughter contagious and joined in, filling the truck's cab. "Hey," he started between chuckles. "What were you laughing about earlier?"
Jim took one look at the plastic throwing disc in his friend's hands and laughed even harder...
Finis
Additional Notes: A happy one, er uh fourth that is, to all. Robyn, here's your shirtless Jim. Listsibs, thanks all for the lovely cards, hope I didn't miss anyone. I'm going to a bbq, now. Have a nice rest of your day, Wnnepooh.