Rating: PG

Written:Copyright © May 2000 MaBrown. All rights reserved.

Spoilers: none

Summary: A trip into the Sandburg Zone.

Author's note: This is another VERY silly snippet. Written by someone currently dieting. You have been warned. (snicker)

No Cookies For YOU!

By MaBrown

This is just one of those days. You know the kind where you know you should have stayed tucked away in the protectiveness of you blankets. Ignoring the alarm clock, and your annoying sentinel roommate’s demands to “get your butt in gear, we’re leaving in ten!” But no, you decided to forge ahead, and meet the day head on. Idiot. When will you learn?

He knew he was late, and more than likely Jim would be waiting for him wondering where his dinner was since it was Blair’s night to cook. He paused briefly again, allowing the throbbing of his ankle to make itself known again. He did NOT want to remember how he’d injured the thing in the first place. Why did these things seem to only happen to him and no one else? Slowly (the only mode of speed capable right now) he lifted his pants leg to check on the afflicted limb. If it weren’t for the fact it was attached to his foot, Blair wouldn’t have thought the sight that greeted him could actually be an ankle. The ankle itself had turned a rather interesting shade of purple, swollen at least 3, no make that 4 times it’s normal size. Another sigh emerged as Blair once again began descended up the stairwell.

Finally reaching his destination, he then began rummaging around his pockets for his keys only to remember he had lost them earlier. With a groan, he began to lean into the door, only to find it had been opened by a rather angry looking large man.

“Sandburg...” Jim began to rant, immediately stopping when he took in his friend’s appearance. “What in the world happened to you?”

Blair was covered head to toe in mud. His hair was plastered down around his face, which bore a rather impressive bruise on the forehead. His jacket was missing a sleeve, and now that Jim looked more closely, so was Blair’s shirt. A tired voice penetrated his thoughts.

“Ah, Jim, if you are now done admiring my current state of disrepair, I would really like to come inside the door now.” Blair quipped, slowly limping into the loft as a stunned Jim moved from the doorway.

“What happened, Blair?? What’s wrong with your foot, why are you limping?? Where have you been, do you realize what time it is??”

A muddy hand held up in his face stopped Jim’s endless flow of questions.

“Jim, I promise I’ll tell you all about it later, okay? Right now all I want is a shower and some clean clothes. And maybe I’d better lie down first...” Blair’s next words faded as the young man began a rather slow decent to the floor.

Jim caught his fading partner by both arms and helped him make it to the bathroom. Setting him down on the side of the tub, he began to help his guide shed his muddy clothing.

“Hey man, I’ve got it, I’ve been undressing myself for years!” the young man groused.

Ignoring his rather agitated partner, Jim left off helping Blair with his shirt and began examining Blair’s ankle. As he proceeded to lightly touch and probe the injured limb, Blair let out a rather interesting assortment of yelps and curses. Some of which he was sure were spoken in another language.

“Man, Jim, why don’t you just rip my ankle off and save us both the trouble.” Blair hissed between clenched teeth. Realizing how harsh he sounded, Blair did an about face. “I’m sorry man, it’s just been a real bad day is all, and I’m just about at the end of my proverbial rope.”

“That’s all right, Blair.” Jim quietly answered sensing his partner’s distress. The young man had paled considerably during the examination of his ankle, and Jim knew it had to be killing him. “Your ankle isn’t broken but you’ve got one wicked sprain. If you think you can manage, I’m going to leave while you take a shower and gather up what I need to wrap your ankle. I think we can skip a trip to the ER this once.”

“Yeah, I can manage,” Blair replied rising from the tub to begin getting ready to shower. “Thank you for helping me, sorry if I sounded cross.”

“Oh don’t worry, payback’s when you tell me what I’m sure will be a fascinating story about how all this happened in the first place.” Jim smiled wickedly as he left the bathroom ignoring his roommate’s grumbled complaints about noisy sentinels and their superiority complexes.


Two hours later Blair was ensconced on the couch foot propped up with a couple of pillows. He felt much better now than he had earlier, having showered, eaten dinner and taken the pain pill forced down his throat by a determined blessed protector. Jim had been fussing over Blair most of the evening practically driving the young man crazy. Finally Jim settled into a chair, beer in hand, face alight with a mischievous grin as he awaited what was sure to be a humorous story. “I’m ready to hear what happened buddy,” Jim’s grin was getting wider with each passing minute.

“I don’t wanna.” Blair pouted in his most pitiful manner.

“Oh come on, spill it chief.” Jim leaned back, crossing his arms waiting patiently.

“Fine...I...uh...I...(sigh)...I was run over by a group of people at the university today.” Blair’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“What?!!? How did you get run over by a group of people? Or do I even want to know?” Jim asked, confusion hanging on every word.

(another big sigh) “Okay it’s like this, there’s this group of people who meet a few times a week at the university for a diet club. It's kind of a place for people to get support while dieting. They also exchange recipes and diet tips.”

“Sandburg.” Jim growled.

“Okay, okay. Geessh, patience IS a virtue. Anyway, their group meets around five in the evening, and lets out at six. Well late this afternoon, one of the sororities had a bake sale and…..”Blair’s voice trailed off as the sound of his sentinel laughing rudely interrupted his story.

“Oh chief, don’t tell me you got caught in the cross fire.” Jim couldn't help but chuckle at that particular mental image.

Blair face reddened as he hotly replied. “Well...yes. I was just leaving when I one of the diet people spotted a table full of freshly baked cookies. Needless to say I got caught in the middle of the frenzy and got knocked down into the mud.” Blair scowled as he noted the tears of laughter pouring down his friend’s face. So much for sympathy.

“Oh...oh that’s rich. That explains the mud, what about the ankle??”

Blair looked down at the blanket on his lap and started fidgeting. “I---uh—that is, somebody fell on it while I was trying to get away. A big guy, must have weighed almost four hundred pounds. It was the cookies, he was trying to get to the cookies and he tripped and fell right on top of me.”

Blair didn’t even bother to finish the story as Jim was now on the floor, tears steaming down his face as he held his stomach, which ached from laughing so hard.

“Only you chief, ONLY you.” Jim chuckled from his spot on the floor.

“ Yeah well try this one on for size...Bite me, Jim.”

The End

This silly snippet was not meant to offend anyone who is dieting. This particular plot bunny just popped into my head while trying to ignore a large bag of cookies and diet at the same time.

I just figured this would be the exact type of silly situation Blair would get caught in the middle of! :-D

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