Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t make money, don’t bother to sue.

Written: Copyright July 2000 Mabrown. All rights reserved.

Author’s note: This is the second of my ‘thank you’ snippets for the extensive help I received regarding html and word docs. This is for Hephaistos (Jane) who requested a nice sleepy Blair snippet. Thank you again for all of your help.

I hope you enjoy!






Tammy’s Knockers


By MaBrown




Simon let out a ‘oomph’ as Jim shifted the limp figure between them over to the tall captain, while he unlocked the door to the loft. He hid a smile as he listened to the giggling of the limp figure behind him.

“Ooh, Sssssimon. I nnnnever knew you were ssssso cuddly. But hey, thanks for the off…the off…the proposition, but you’re just not my type.” Blair slurred the affects of the painkiller apparently kicking into high gear. The look on Simon’s face must have been priceless for Blair immediately started cracking up. Jim could practically feel the heat from the flush creeping up Simon’s face and he tried his best not to laugh. Besides, it wasn’t a good idea to encourage Blair in this state. He quickly opened the door and ushered Simon and the limping Blair Sandburg into the loft apartment, turning his face away from the fuming captain in a vain attempt to hide his growing amusement.

“I hope you don’t think this is funny, Jim. Or I’d hate to be you come Monday morning.” Simon groused as he helped the limping figure towards the couch, dropping the mumbling man like a hot potato.

“Dooon’t be mad, Simon. Y-You’re kinda cute…I guess…I mean…I don’t know. Maybe ssssomebody…or a woman…just depends on whoooo it is, mmmmight like ya. I guess…” Blair’s voice trailed off as he started humming softly, apparently finished with that particular line of conversation. Simon’s face turned an interesting shade of maroon as he stalked away from Blair and headed for the kitchen.

“Just for that Ellison, you owe me a beer, maybe two.” Jim smiled, barely swallowing back his laughter as he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, two beers at least. Of course, it is YOUR fault he’s like this, you know.” Jim handed a cold bottle to his waiting friend, smiling again as the man flushed even brighter.

“Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know he was right behind me? I’m not psychic…or Sentinel.” Simon groused. “It’s not like I meant to knock him down, I didn’t know he was following so closely behind me. He wasn’t paying attention, maybe he spotted one of the Jag’s cheerleaders or something.” Simon paused, taking a deep sip of the ice-cold beer. A look of worry crossed his face as he glanced at Jim.

“But I am sorry he fell, it’s just sprained right? Not broken?” Simon almost looked vulnerable as he studied Jim. The Sentinel smiled inwardly as he watched his captain try to hide his concern and guilt. He knew the older man was very fond of his partner, he just didn’t like to show it.

Jim nodded. “Yeah, Simon, just sprained. His ankle will be fine, don’t worry about it. He’s a very forgiving man, you know that.”

Simon smiled and was just about to offer his agreement when a whooping call erupted from the couch in the living room.

“Police brutality…and liessssss. All liesssssssss!” Blair mumbled, turning around on the couch to lean over the back and point an accusing, though rather fuzzy stare at the startled captain.

“Si…Si…Simonnnn is lying! HE was check…check…lookin’ at the women. Watching Tammy Knockers…you knnnow the one Jim…the cheerleader you always stare at with the really big…”

“Okay, that’s enough, Chief. Why don’t we get you to bed now, huh?” It was Jim’s turn to blush as he helped his Guide to his room. But Blair wouldn’t go quietly.

“Always on meeeee about table legssss. You old guys are waaaaaay worse. Simonnnnnn wasss droolin’ as soon as we got in the stadium. It’s true, I ssaw it with my own…my own…whatever. I saw it. Didn’t watch where he was going and he ran into meeeee.” Blair giggled again as Jim laid him flat on the futon bed. The Sentinel gently pulled the shoe off of his snickering Guide and pulled a blanket over the young man.

“Go to sleep, Chief.” He was too late with his words, for the younger man was already snoring away, mumbling in his sleep about bosomy cheerleaders and dirty old police captains.

Frowning, Jim left the room, studiously avoiding his captain’s glare.

The two men sat at the kitchen table, gazing at their beer bottles as if they held the secret to the meaning of life, or at least the meaning of the Sandburg Zone.

A few moments later, Simon finally broke the awkward silence.

“So…you like Tammy too, huh?” He inquired, staring at the amber liquid in an effort to avoid his detective’s face.

Jim cleared his throat and took a deep swig from the bottle. “Y-Yeah, I guess. She’s okay, got nice assets.”

A howl of laughter from the behind the French doors leading to Blair’s room interrupted Jim’s hesitant confession.

“Gooood one, man! Ha haaa haaa, assets… Check it out…he likes her assets…too funny.” The voice mumbled. “Bet that’s why Simonnn likes her too…nice assets.” The voice trailed off again as the younger man apparently drifted back to sleep…or back to the Sandburg Zone.

Jim’s face reddened as he glanced at his captain. Both men stared at each other for a minute before erupting into howls of laughter.

Wiping away tears from his eyes, Simon smiled as he raised the beer bottle in a toast.

“Here’s to payback.”

Jim smiled as he raised his bottle. “ And just what will our revenge be?”

“Paperwork…lots and lots of paperwork.” Simon intoned and both men smiling broadly as they clinked their beer bottles together.

“Simon and Tammy sittin’ in a treeeee, k..i..s..s..i..n..g….” Blair sang from his room.

“SANDBURG!!!”

~~THE END~~

Whew, that was bad I know, but the even sadder part is it took me three days to come up with this little snippet.

:-)