Approaching a Fool

By GinaLin

“This is now officially a shitty ending to a shitty week.’ Blair pronounced. He gingerly held a bag of ice to his swollen jaw.

“Just keep holding that right there,’ said a professionally soothing female voice. “It doesn´t appear that you have any serious injuries, Detective, but the doctor will want to look you over thoroughly to be sure.’

Blair nodded wincing as the motion aggravated the growing stiffness in his jaw and neck. The nurse, a grandmotherly fifty-something black woman, patted him gently on the arm. People were always patting him. It made him feel like a poodle.

“Hey, Jim. Is there anything about me that remotely resembles a poodle?’

Jim Ellison raised an eyebrow at his partner. Well, it was both eyebrows, really, because he really had never gotten that Mr. Spock one eyebrow thing down pat. Being a Sentinel did not encompass everything, after all.

“More like a shit-zu.’

He was holding a bloody piece of gauze against his cheek as he spoke.

“A shit-what?’ Blair offered, wondering if he should start being offended.

“You know, one of those cute, fuzzy dogs with the big eyes. My cousin had one. Damn thing bit me every time we went there to visit.’

Blair gave him a dirty look. Being offended was definitely an option.

Jim tried an innocent look. “Hey, you were the one who brought up the dog thing.’

Blair gave him dirty look number two, advanced version. It was easy, because his face and neck hurt and it was making him cranky.

Sensing a diversionary tactic would be to his advantage at this moment, Jim decided to launch an offensive maneuver.

“As long as you´re pissed at me, Chief, I´m telling you if you ever push me out of the way and take a punch like that again, I´ll personally…’

He was interrupted by a snort of laughter, followed by a little moan of pain.

“I tripped. Believe me, I was not trying to be super cop, Jim. My people have a proverb, “Never approach a goat from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.´’

“You what?’ Jim asked again.

“I tripped when I was running over to back you up, plowed into you and kind of landed on Davidson´s fist.’ Blair confessed.

“Kind of landed?’ Jim shook his head.

“Does that have to go in the report?’ Blair asked quietly. “Because I don´t think that would be good for my ego. Or my career, come to think of it.’

“Blair…,’ Jim began.

“Oh, god, he called me Blair.’ Blair said, holding his head.

“What, that´s your name isn´t it?’ Jim looked bewildered. “Unless your mother secretly named you Cloudwalker or Willowtree or something.’

“Jim, you only use my first name when you´re trying to be nice, and you only try to be nice when I´ve really screwed up.’


“Yes. Believe me, I´ve been trained to notice patterns in human interpersonal relationships."

“I only call you Blair when I´m trying to be nice?’

“Well, yeah, and sometimes in the throes of passion.’


“Throes. Of passion.’

“Are there any other kinds of throes?’ Jim wondered out loud. His face hurt and he wanted to go home very badly all of a sudden.

“Um, no, I don´t think so. Is your face hurting?’ Blair leaned over to look at the cut more closely, grunting a little as he turned his neck.

“Probably no more than yours. Maybe less. After all, you don´t have dials, just ice.’

“How long do you think we´ll have to wait?’ Blair asked him. The ice was doing a good job of making his jaw numb, now that the ache had gone away.

“Lots of people were hurt in the bombing, most of them worse than us. Probably a while.’ Jim replied.

“Do you ever wonder why every nutbar with a load of C-4 and a grudge against society ends up in Cascade?’ Blair shifted the ice pack and wondered if all hospital chairs were ass-numbingly hard.

“Look at the bright side, Junior, at least we´re not the serial killer capital of the U.S. Oregon is.’



“Still too close for comfort.’ Blair noted.


“We should go home. We can suffer just as well at home, and there´s television. And beer. And a nice comfy sofa.’ Blair stood up.

“Sounds good.’ Jim stood up and slung an encompassing arm around his partner. “You can put a few butterflies on this cut, we´ll drink a few beers and watch TV. Just you, me and the first aid kit.’

“Ooh, playing doctor, that sounds fun.’

“Yeah, but this time, you´re wearing the nurses uniform.’

The End.

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