By: Denise James
Disclaimer: Jim and Blair are not mine, they are currently visiting a strange place known as the twilight zone... Blair has cut his hair and thinks he's in the airforce or that he's a doctor and Jim is having an identity crisis as well, not knowing one week to the next who is is or where he will be. I have heard that they will soon be back to their old lovable selves in Jan. when Sci-Fi brings our boys home.
This story came from an email a friend of mine sent me. The original title was Girls Night Out. After reading it a few times I could hear the boys and suddenly a story was born.
Guys Night Out
By: Denise James
The other night I was invited out for a night with *the guys*. Everyone was going except for Jim. He was on medical leave due to a recent knee injury. I was willing to stay home and look after him but he *insisted* that I go.
"Damnit Sandburg you've been hovering over me ever since I got home from the hospital. I had knee surgury for Christ's sake, not open heart surgury." The older man stated, his tone ringing with irritation.
I looked down at the floor for a moment, I have to admit that what he said stung a bit. "Sorry. I just want to make sure that you're okay. I mean, it's not like you can throw back a few pills and be completely pain free."
I watched as his face softened. "I'm sorry. I know that you mean well and I shouldn't snap at you. It's not your fault that I took a tumble down a flight of stairs." He shifted slightly and I instinctively adjusted the pillow under his injured knee. Hearing him sigh, and realizing that he was right and I was again hovering, I looked up and grinned somewhat sheepishly.
"Sorry. I'm doing it again aren't I?"
He looked at me and I first I thought that he was going to take another chunk out of my butt, but then his scowl melted into a grin and he busted out laughing. "I swear Sandburg, sometimes you get this lost puppy look and no matter how mad I get at you, I just can't stay that way."
/// Hummmmm./// I think to myself. /// I'll have to keep that in mind next time he jumps me for not staying in the truck.///
Finally he sobers up as I'm pulling the blanket over him. And as I place his robe, that had been kicked into the floor, back on the end of the bed, he says, "Go, drink eat and be merry."
I stop fussing over him for a moment and look into his eyes to make sure this isn't just the drugs talking. "Are you sure? I mean what if you need something...or need help with...." I gesture to a sensitive area, "ummm...something."
"Leave a bottle of water, my meds, and an apple on the nightstand and put the bed pan under the bed. That should just about cover anything that might....come up."
I think about it for a moment and nod. "Sure. I'll even bring the cordless up here too, just in case you need me for something. I'll keep my cell on."
Jim tries to object, but I cut him off. "You never know when you might get a sudden craving for Butter Pecan ice cream or a warm buttermilk doughnut." I tease, knowing I've gotten through when Jim's eyebrows go up thoughtfully. Again a little bribery gets the job done.
I quickly run down stairs to gather the supplies that I thought he might need while I'm out and place them in a handy little basket. Back up in his room I place the basket on the nightstand and make a show of placing the clean bedpan beneath the bed. He hates me.... I can tell by the look he gives me as I put a new box of wet wipes in his drawer. Again I grin at him, silently enjoying his torture. Although I figure there will be hell to pay when he's up and around again on his crutches. Just as I turn to leave I notice that his robe is on the floor again. I look at him and he gives me this innocent look. Okay....so it's already starting. As I pick up the robe and shake it out before laying it back on the bed, I catch him smirking. Yep...it's definately *on*.
I hurry back down stairs grabbing my things and placing them by the door. Then I go around and turn out the lights and make sure the appliances are off and the windows are locked. As I do so I call up to Jim, "I'll be back by midnight." I hear him snort. "Really! I promise!"
"Well, don't expect me to be up waiting for you junior. And if you get too wasted take a cab... I can't come and get you this time."
"Yes mom... I love you too."
I hear him laughing; his meds are starting to kick in.
Someone... I think it was Brown.... Suggested a game of stacking shot glasses. The trick was that you had to empty the glass first... Hell, I was game.
The next morning my alarm sounded and with blurred vision, and a sluggish hand, I turned it off. My head was pounding and my stomach churned, but I knew that Jim would be hungry and it would be up to me to see to his breakfast.
With the Tylenol working on my head, I made my way up to his room with a tray heavy laiden with his favorites, including buttermilk doughnuts. I found him sitting up in bed, his arms crossed over his chest and a strange look on his face.
"I didn't think you'd be awake. I didn't wake you did I?" I was worried that in my haste to make breakfast I may have been a bit too loud.
"No, I've been awake for a while now." he said simply. After picking up the remote and turning his television off, he patted his lap for me to set the tray down. His eyebrows went up when he saw the fruits of my labor and I couldn't help but smile. I knew he was pleased with my efforts.
He picked up a doughnut first, dipping it into his coffee and enjoying each flavor that ghosted over his sensitive taste buds. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he were experiencing some religous experience. He opened his eyes and dunked the doughnut again. As he dunked he asked, "What time did you get in last night?"
I watched as he popped the last bit of the coffee soaked treat into his mouth and said, "Oh, about 12 o'clock. I tried not to wake you." He didn't seem disturbed at all as he loaded up his fork with eggs. /// Whew! Got away with that one! ///
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock". He continued eating, never looking at me.
Suddenly I was worried that in my drunken stuper I had broken the clock. I peeped over the loft railing and found it where it had been for the past year. It seemed to be fine. "It looks fine to me. Why do we need a new one?"
He finished chewing his eggs, sat his fork down on his plate, wiped his mouth with the napkin I handed him before answering. "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said 'Oh Shit!', cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed 2 more times, and then farted."
/// Oh shit. /// I flashed my best lost puppy dog expression at him before asking, "Another Buttermilk Doughnut Jim?"
End.