Rated: G. This isn't beta'ed. All boo-boos are mine. Last warning.

Summary: The boys and a watermelon and some bonding.

Author's Notes: Dedicated to my wonderful husband Brian who always said that one   day this day would come, and to Wolfshy for prodding me to post. Thanks to you both.    Feedback welcomed at blreeder@bellsouth.net. Be gentle -- I'm new at this.

 Blair hugged the robust watermelon closely to his body as he climbed the three flights
 of stairs to the loft. Jim was still grinning and mumbling at his partners antics for presreserving the life of the melon they'd just bought.

"Don't you think the seat belt was a little much, Chief?" Jim asked as he unlocked the
 door and allowed Blair to enter first.

 Blair frowned playfully and hugged the melon closer to him and away from Jim. "With
 the way you drive, no, it wasn't TOO much thank you."

Jim sat the sacks of groceries down on the counter and turned to see Blair simply
standing in the dinning room holding the melon looking down at it like some long lost
 child.

"Are you through bonding, Chief, or do I need to leave the room?" Jim teased him.

Blair sat the melon on the table. "Ha ha, very funny, man. I just don't our melon ending
up like the eggs did last week."

Well, he had a point, Jim thought. The little high speed chase had resulted in a carton
of eggs being slammed around in the bed of the truck. One didn't need an imagination
to figure out the results.

Dinner was quick and simple. Sandwiches and cold beer. It was too damn hot to cook
and neither could remember whose night it was to cook anyway. With dinner out of the
way Blair was already bouncing on his toes in anticipation of eating the juicy melon.

Jim had taken the melon to the balcony and sat it on the wide railing in preparation for
carving. Blair had disappeared to his room and then returned dressed in shorts and old
tank top Jim was sure came over on the Ark.

"You dress for eating a melon?" Jim queried at his partner's strange behavior.

Blair's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Oh yea, man! This is special. I haven't had
melon in oh... ages! I can't wait to taste the juicy, fleshy, sweet --"

"I get the picture!" Jim cut him off before he suddenly had feelings for the melon
himself!!

With a long carving knife Jim prepared to cut the melon.

"What are ya doing, man!" Blair's shriek cut through the evening air like a gunshot.

Jim's normally steady hand faltered and he nearly dropped the knife. "Damn it,
Sandburg! What the hell is wrong now!"

Blair was wide-eyed as a frightened animal. His hands gesturing wildly, "You don't
cut a melon north to south! You cut it east to west!"

Jim was totally lost and made a mental note never to buy watermelon again. At least as long as Blair was around!

"What?" Jim shook his head, annoyance beginning to show in his blue eyes.

Blair took the knife from him, careful of disarming the Sentinel. "You cut a melon east
to west. The pieces are small and there's more of them, man."

"Blair," Jim took a deep, cleansing breath before he choked the crap out of his partner
and friend, "you cut a melon north to south to preserve the juice lines."

"Juice lines?" Blair squeaked. "It's not a juice factory, Big Guy."

Jim laughed, "Juice lines, Sandburg. East to west cuts them and the melon is dry and
tasteless."

Blair shook his head, his curls as excited as he was. "That's a load of BS, man!"

Jim eyed him with a raised brow, "And that east west crap, isn't?"

Blair eyed the melon again, "No, it's scientific."

Jim leaned against the railing of the balcony. They weren't going to have melon
anytime soon at this rate. Might as well give in and let Sandburg enjoy his victory.

"Alright, you cut the melon, your way." Jim said.

Blair shook his head, "No, you're right. We'll cut it your way." Propping against the
railing he waited for Jim to make a move.

"No, Chief, you bonded with the melon, you cut it." Jim said, trying not to laugh.

"Jim, please cut the melon before it's midnight."

Jim stood his ground, arms crossed across his chest, refusing to take the knife from
Blair. "Nope, you cut it."

They stood in silence and disagreement for a good five minutes before they both heard
something from below the balcony.

"Uh oh." Blair whispered, looking at Jim as he too peered over the balcony railing.

"Guess, that solves the melon cuttin' problem, Chief." Blair looked down at the ight     below. There, on the sidewalk, was his perfect melon. Exploded in a zillion pieces.
An Ant-Feast for the taking. Not to mention that Mrs. Gordon's potted plants took a   hit  on the way down.

"I thought you were holding it?" Jim accused.

"Me?!" Blair returned. "I thought you had it!"

 The End
August 1999
 

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